Tells
by Heligena
Summary: A Swan Queen fanfic- not canon coz the UK is a million stupid miles behind but basically looking at the growing relationship between Emma and Regina through sharing stories about their past. Gonna be more than a one shot if people are kind enough to let me know they want more!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey guys this is my first ever Swan Queen fanfic so any reviews you might have are very much appreciated. I've read some absolutely awesome ones and thought I'd throw my hat in the ring, for better or worse. I've only ever written Skins stuff before (British version series 3) so feel free to check those out on my page. I was kind of going for a growing relationship vibe with this, having Regina and Emma learn about each others past and see how it changes their opinion of each other. Not sure how well it worked but I'd love to know if I should keep it as a one shot or continue with both characters backstories, any thoughts would totally make my day. (Not even joking!) I'm from Wales so we're only just getting series 2- that's why I pretty much stayed away from canon stuff, in case you're wondering.**

**PS. Viva la SQ ship!**

**TELLS**

"Everyone has tells."

"Excuse me Miss Swan?" Regina looked up from the paperwork lying on her desk with barely disguised irritation to see a brief smug grin on the blondes face.

"Even you."

The brunette eyed her with disdain. "While I appreciate your talent for viewing me as someone above other mere human beings, is this at all relevant to Storybrooke's current graffiti problem?"She motioned to the manilla folder lying on her desk.

"I was just wondering if you wanted to know what yours was? ...Since we're here and all."

Regina stared at her.

"You have no idea what mine is, Sheriff."

Emma smiled. "Sure about that are you?"

The dark haired woman opposite lowered her eyes again. "As sure as I am that you had something disgustingly calorie laden for breakfast this morning."

"Because you've been doing it for like the last twenty minutes."

Regina's head snapped up. "I most certainly have not. And could we please focus. Some of us have actual work to do."

"Well Holy Cow. Imagine the headlines. After all her vile manipulative deeds, evil queen found buried under a landslide of paperwork. "Emma snorted. "The irony."

And just out of interest, what is irony, Miss Swan, can you tell me that? "

There was more than a hint of challenge in the mayor's superior tone and Emma felt her face flush. She may not have been the smartest kid in class but that didn't mean she hadn't figured her way round problems that she'd come across.

"Well, it uh, depends."

"On?"

"Whether you mean verbal, dramatic or situational?" She replied as casually as she could.

Regina froze.

"Well I guess broadly it's the difference between what is and what seems to be. If we're talking... you know, nutshell. Which is surprisingly appropriate for this place."

Regina's jaw practically dropped.

And Emma gave herself a little mental high five. Not least for actually paying attention the other night to Mary-Margaret's rant about the papers she'd had to mark on JM Barrie and how none of the kids had understood the concept. There'd been a long detailed lecture in there too as they sat at the kitchen table and to be quite honest Emma had only just managed to remember those few words by some massive stroke of luck. Not that she'd ever admit it to the mayor of Storybrooke.

Coming out of her thoughts, Emma looked up and caught the very same mayor's eye at that moment. She was surprised by what she saw there. She could have almost sworn that she detected a streak of shame buried deeply in the brown orbs. Almost as if Regina was sorry she'd asked the question. But that couldn't be true. Regina Mills lived to humiliate people; everyone knew that, it was her main enjoyment in life.

...wasn't it?

"Miss Swan, I'm sorry."

It was the turn of Emma's jaw to drop then.

Regina swallowed and held her head up across from her, "I didn't mean to imply that... " her voice died away.

Regaining her senses, Emma decided to take pity on her and shrugged, "Yeah you did but its ok." She pointed at her forehead. "This, not exactly my strong suit."

"There are people here who would beg to differ," Regina said quietly.

"Which people would these be?"

The Mayor brushed her dress down a little awkwardly. "I don't know. Henry. Mary-Margaret and that chump of a husband of hers. Ruby I suppose." She waved a hand. "People. That you've saved. That you helped...that...that...just people!"

"Ok. Cool." Emma grinned at the flustered gaze of the older woman. "Seriously though, everyone has tells. They don't know they have them but they do. It's what makes them so easy to read."

"Why do I get the feeling you like that fact?" said Regina with curiosity.

Emma considered that for a moment. "Yeah I guess. A rebellious little streak in your own skin that makes a break from the party line. What's not to like?"

Regina smiled and it struck the Saviour as the first strangely genuine smile she'd seen from the other woman.

"And it served you pretty well growing up I suppose?"

"Saved my hide a couple of times that's for sure."

That was the turning point. At least that's how it seemed.

It was the moment that took the Saviour by surprise.

Getting up from her leather chair, Regina Mills sauntered over to her drinks cabinet and pulled out a bottle of whisky. Unscrewing the lid, she poured it into two tumblers then stowed it away again. Returning to the desk, she sat down with poise then hesitating a little, pushed one of the glasses over to where Emma sat.

Emma looked at her aghast. "During work hours, Madam Mayor?"

"Well if you don't want it," replied Regina and moved to take it back but Emma grabbed at the crystal.

"No no, I was just asking."

The smirk on her boss's face was unmistakeable but it faded a little as a new question sprang unbidden into Regina's mind.

"Would you tell me?"

"Huh?"

Regina laughed at the look of abject confusion on Emma's face.

"About one of those times that it 'saved your hide.'

"Oh."

Then...

"Oh!" Said Emma, as she realised that she hadn't actually told anyone in Storybrooke about her past. About her childhood.

"You don't have to, dear," interjected the mayor, a little thrill of disappointment running through her veins at the Sheriff's hesitation. "It's none of my business."

Emma took a large gulp of her drink and stared at the older woman. "No it's not that, I just...I haven't...I mean..."

She let the tumbler roll over her palm and watched the flattened flesh move.

"You really want to hear about it?"

She looked up, feeling strangely vulnerable.

And Regina smiled again, in that new but familiar way. "I do."

Emma in response sat up straighter and thought back to the first time it had occurred to her that she could honestly and truly read people.

And she knew with absolute clarity how she should start.

"Well," she began, frowning. "The first group foster home I went to was called Mount Parnassus. It was in West Roxbury and there was this one kid- Johno. Johno Ligane. A real asshole you know..."

_He'd challenged her to a fight in the yard. And she'd agreed before she'd even thought about it, but when she realized exactly how much bigger he was than her she knew she'd have to use something other than brute strength to come out victorious._

_So she watched him. Hour after hour over the two days before the throw-down. How he zeroed in on the weaker kids and devised individual little humiliations for each of them. Tripping them up when they carried their food. Or throwing their chocolate bars into the communal toilet. How he loitered around in the dining room after lunch to steal leftovers when no-one was looking then took them to his room. Cakes and muffins and mounds of ice cream he stuffed into an old backpack. And it was as she was staring through his bedroom window afterwards, watching him punching the walls with all the excess energy of a boxer that it hit her._

_What it all meant. And what she needed to do._

_Soon enough Thursday rolled around, the day of the fight and everyone was buzzing about it, even kids she'd never talked to. Sneaking into the kitchens mid-morning, Emma checked out the delights that were on offer for the day. Sloppy Joes, chicken drumsticks and salad for the main. Then it looked like Pecan Pie or Cheesecake for dessert. Leaving the savoury food untouched, she stacked up the pies until they were balanced under her chin and wobbled her way outside to the industrial size dustbins. Letting them all topple in, she quickly made her way back, grabbed the couple of cheesecakes and deposited them in the same way. Brushing off her hands, with a small grin, she then headed back up to her shared room to read her latest comics until lunchtime. There was a collective groan when the announcement was made that there was going to be no dessert today, and somehow she managed to join in without giving herself away. It wasn't easy. But eventually the fuss died down and everyone got on with their day. She didn't stop watching him though. She watched as he stomped up the stairs, watched as he tore his room apart looking for the secret stash of Twinkies and Reece's Pieces that had mysteriously disappeared from the Eerie Indiana box under the bed._

_By the time six o'clock came around and she stood waiting in the windy quad with a circle of onlookers that grew bigger by the second, Johno showed up, walking slowly towards everyone. No-one else noticed it, but she could see the fine sheen of sweat on his face and the slump in his massive shoulders as he sized her up. She felt a brief moment of panic then, and wondered if she could just call it off. But it was too late. She'd never live it down if she did and the thought of all the taunts that'd be thrown her way made up her mind._

_Pushing a blonde lock of hair behind her ear, Emma swallowed then waved her hand in a 'come and get it' motion. He didn't need telling twice, apparently. Charging at her, she watched alertly until he was a heartbeat away then sidestepped and cheekily slapped him on the back of the neck as he went past. He turned angrily at the act and charged again with even more speed. So she repeated her manoeuvre, adding a pull on the small hairs at the bottom of his skull for good measure. _

_He turned faster this time and swung his arm out. Emma dodged it expertly, letting his own momentum take him off balance. Jumping onto his back, she brought her elbow down onto his neck with a dull thud then dove off immediately, planting her feet evenly on the concrete._

_He spun round, "You bitch!" _

"_Sticks and stones, jerk-wad." she shrugged._

_The sheen of sweat was quite easy to see now, at least to her. It covered his whole body and she could see the effort it was taking to get his legs to move. It wasn't going to take much longer, she thought thankfully._

_And that was when the small rock smacked the side of her face and she yelped in pain._

_He was grinning at her. "Thanks for the suggestion ass-hole." _

_Damnit, pay attention, she whispered angrily to herself and wiped away the smear of blood threatening to seep into her eye. _

_Re-focusing, Emma bounced from one foot to the other and waited for his next move. Except that there wasn't one. He was motionless a few feet away, breathing heavily and her heart jumped into her chest. When the expected move didn't come and he just stood there glaring at her, she started to freak out a little that her plan was going to let her down after all. Something had to change._

_So she tried a new tactic and moved towards him. Feinting as if to hit him, she watched his fist respond and let it flash past her right ear. Moving to his left, she jabbed again and ducked under his punch. Spinning around him, keeping him moving in a circle, she kept up the game; nipping in to 'attack' then lunging out of the way of his angry response. After a few minutes of this, Johno's eyes were beginning to glaze over and his arms were hanging limply at his sides between jabs. Even the crowd could see it and had begun wandering away in ones and twos. It wasn't about them though. At least not for her. _

_Making her final move, Emma moved right into his face and shoved the boy backwards as hard as she could. Grunting with humiliation, he stopped himself from falling and lunged forward with all of his remaining energy. Jumping out of his way, she watched as Johno, the boy that had made all the other kids cry at some point in their stay collapse to his knees in front of her, absolutely exhausted. _

_And she realised. She'd won. She'd beaten him and he clearly knew it as he hung his head, eyes on the floor. Brains had beaten brawn for once._

_The sense of relief that flooded through her veins was exhilarating. The remnants of the audience however didn't agree. They began to wander off then, grumbling that the entertainment hadn't gone the way they'd expected and Emma was left alone with Johno in front of her. _

_And the truth was she could have done a hundred things. Could have sauntered over there and crowed in his face. Could have run inside to steal an old camera and taken a photo of him to immortalise the humiliation forever. It even crossed her mind that she could have slapped him again, kicked him while he was down. Literally._

_But the truth was she didn't want to. She'd made her point to herself if no-one else. _

_Instead, walking over to his slumped body, she reached into her pocket as she knelt down next to him. Pulling out a Chocolate Crisp bar she held it out in offering. The wariness and hatred in his eyes almost made her change her mind but steeling herself, she took one of his hands, unfurled the clenched fingers and placed the bar in his palm. _

"_You should eat this," she said quietly._

"_Why?" he snarled._

"_Because you're diabetic and you haven't had any sugar since breakfast."_

"_Don't be ridiculous. I'm not a pussy."_

"_Being ill doesn't make you...that." she said simply, unwilling to use that word._

"_I'm gonna pound whoever told you."_

_She shook her head. "No-one told me." _

_And he blinked, as the anger faded a little. "How do you know that then?"_

_Emma shrugged, "Figured it out. I'm weird like that."_

"_It's still none of your business." He sniffed. "And this wasn't a fair fight."_

_Emma raised an eyebrow as she stood up. "When did you ever play fair?"_

_They stared at each other. _

_Neither willing to concede the point._

_Until she gave a brief nod and turned to walk back to the dorms, back to her books and her shared room._

"_You shouldn't get too cocky," he yelled from somewhere behind her then._

_She didn't bother turning round. "__**You**__ shouldn't pick fights with girls."_

_Emma shrugged as she moved. "Guess we've both got a bunch of stuff to learn."_

_And she walked away._

Coming back to the present, Emma glanced over at Regina trying to work out what she was thinking, how much she'd taken in.

But she was sat there across the ornate desk in her office, unmoving and unreadable for once. Like a statue.

In a room filled with a new kind of silence.

A silence that seemed to lie heavy on Emma's skin.

With a slight blush, checking her watch, Emma found herself swallowing uncomfortably, "Sorry, that story was a bit longer than I planned. I have a tendency to ramble when I get started on things from the past."

She attempted a laugh.

And for whatever reason that sound seemed to get through to the mayor. Her lips tilted upwards slightly as she suddenly locked eyes with Emma. "It's not a problem Miss Swan."

She paused and said quietly, "You've never told anyone that before, have you?"

Emma shook her head self-consciously, unsure if she should tell the truth.

"Thank you." Regina said then in almost a whisper and the Saviour shivered a little at the obvious sincerity behind the word, her mind a whirl of confusion.

This wasn't how she had seen today going. At all.

And if she was being truthful, she didn't really want it to end. But she knew she should stop. Stop before she came out with something not quite so uplifting from her past. Something she couldn't take back.

Pulling herself up from her chair, Emma cleared her throat. "Well I don't want to keep you from your work. Everything on the graffiti is in my report there so I should..."

Regina stood up ridiculously fast, "Actually I was just about to take a break and get some lunch from Granny's."

"Oh right."

Brown eyes locked onto green. "Would you..." She paused.

"You're welcome to join me. If you want."

Emma smiled at that. "Sure. I could eat."

The two women headed out then, across the plush rug that covered half the office.

"No pasties though."

Emma rolled her eyes at the comment. "Fine."

"And there has to be a salad or some kind of vegetable in there too."

"Whatever you say, Madame Mayor."

The door closed softly behind them.


	2. Tells Chapter 2

**A/N Hey guys so here's chapter two, sorry for the delay- works a bitch and it basically ruins my life! Just FYI: The Strix memory that Regina has in this chapter is basically a reworking of a Brothers Grimm tale called the Owl, you should check it out, I always kinda liked it. And it seemed appropriate, being a fairytale and all.**

**Anyway on with the show. Big thanks to all who read, favourited and followed BTW, and massive thanks to those who reviewed. Like most fanfic peeps, reviews totally totally make my day and somehow make me write faster so if anyone has any thoughts/criticisms/ideas for further chapters please please post them. **

**Love you all!**

TELLS Chapter Two:

Amidst the lunch-time boom, came a soft voice.

"Ok...so we've got a three bean salad for you Mayor."

Ruby went to slide the piled up plate across to her but Regina held up a delicate hand.

"That's actually the Sheriff's."

Ruby's jaw practically hit the floor. And Emma frowned grumpily as she took the plate off her.

"What? I eat...pulses and stuff." she muttered.

The mayor couldn't help a grin from slipping out as Ruby placed a Caesar salad in front of her. "Of course you do dear."

Waiting for Ruby to saunter back to the counter, she picked up her cutlery and blinked innocently. "Just out of interest, _what_ are three kinds of bean in there?"

Emma looked down forlornly at the mishmash of ingredients tossed around on her plate.

"Uh kidney beans."

Regina nodded.

"And ...Cannellini beans?"

_Yes! Score one for Emma Swan._

"And the third?"

Emma searched her memory for any kind of answer she could possibly get away with, searching the nooks and crannies for something to blag with but soon realised there was absolutely nothing in there to help her save face. Looking up, she glared at her lunch companion, fully aware that she'd been totally busted.

"Has-beans." She said daring the brunette to argue.

Regina took a small mouthful of green leaves. "Uh-huh."

Relaxing back in her chair a little, a smirk slowly returned to Emma's face.

"You just did it again, by the way."

"I'm sorry?"

"Your tell. Well, that and spoke with your mouth full. Both of which- very entertaining but in totally different ways."

Regina's dark eyes narrowed. "You really need to let that drop."

But Emma could feel herself gaining the upper hand again and enjoyed the sensation way too much to do that. "There's one sure fire way to take my mind off it, you know."

"I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about, Miss Swan."

"It doesn't have to be a big secret, just something from your life before I knew you." Emma bit her lip. "I really would like to know."

Regina however, stiffened at the wide green eyes across from her, her spine straightening against the padded seat. "I...That's not really appropriate is it?"

"Why not?"

The brunette put her fork down for a moment, with seriousness.

"Sheriff, you sound like one of those pathetic women that scan trashy gossip magazines for celebrity rumour."

"It's hardly the same." Emma rolled her green eyes. "And I wouldn't really call you a celebrity."

"It's a metaphor, Sheriff."

_Your face is a metaphor, _thought Emma sourly.

"Just because you want to know something doesn't give you the right to ask about it," said Regina plainly.

"And just because no-one's cared enough to ask before, doesn't mean that that can't change." Came the reply.

The mayor took stock of that for a moment, shocked into silence by the simplicity of the idea. Always expect the unexpected; she really should start keeping that in mind whenever she dealt with one Emma Swan. And although she'd never admit it out loud, the blonde across from her had actually made a relatively good point truth be told. But her instincts. Her instincts honed over years of hard won bitterness and loneliness screamed at her to walk away. To get out of this place before she revealed too much. To avoid questions and emotions; to...quite simply, refrain. Refrain from any of the petty conversations and relationships that seemed to content most of the faceless throng she had to deal with.

And she knew she should stick to those rules. Should keep to the plan and follow her own advice and...

"I had a pet owl," she blurted out, in an uncharacteristically strident tone.

_What the hell was that? _She thought immediately. _Where did that come from?!_

Emma breathed in.

"An owl?! Like an...actual owl. With the feathers and the ...whole twit twoo thing?"

Regaining composure over her flushed face, the Mayor sniggered. "Miss Swan, You didn't tell me you studied ornithology in prison." She waggled a finger. "You've been holding out on me."

"That's cute." Replied Emma cocking her head.

She was completely unaware of the involuntary shiver that ran through Regina's arms at the word but the brunette was quick to file away the sensation away for later. Right now, she was finding it hard enough to pull her thoughts away from the memory of soft feathers and golden eyes that seemed to be battering the backs of her eyes.

Meanwhile Emma snuck a mouthful of food and chewed thoughtfully as she took in the streak of nervousness in the brunette's brown orbs.

"You really had an owl?" she said softly.

"Yes, Sheriff I had an owl." Regina bristled.

"Tell me about him?"

"Her not him."

"Figures," mumbled the blonde.

"And her name was Strix. "

Regina sniffed, as a memory of the bird blazed in her mind, fully formed and tainted with heartache. _Well it's too late to back out now, _she thought.

Coughing slightly, she began.

"Her name was Strix and she was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

_Strix Was a horned owl. She had large yellow eyes that burned with an uncut intelligence and endearing tufts on her ears that made the young Regina want to fondle them endlessly. She used to live in the woods behind their family home and it was there that the fourteen year old girl had stumbled across her. She'd been climbing the old oak known as the dragon tree to see if she could beat her personal best of reaching the fifth limb from the top but when she'd gotten to the fourth highest branch she'd found something she'd never expected. A deep hole was buried in the trunk and when she'd peered in, a pair of suspicious amber eyes had stared right back. Not exactly fearful but cautious nonetheless. Instinctively, although she had no idea why Regina began to speak nonsense in soft tones and after a few minutes reached her hand a little bit inside. She'd figured the bird might just be biding its time until it could get to her skin with its sharp beak but to her amazement, the grey-brown owl had let her stroke its feathers as she whispered. It even drew forward a little to allow her to scratch the back of its downy head. And the truth was it felt so good to have a friend, even if they weren't the normal kind. Even if no-one understood._

_It felt so good in fact that she didn't really want to go home that evening. _

_From that day onwards, she spent a great deal of time with Strix. There was never any sign of her in the day so she had to go climbing each time she could get away before sunset but once they had bonded Strix never refused to come out at early evening when Regina called to her. Somehow through a series of calls and whistles she managed to teach the bird to come and land on her covered arm, then to watch as she soared into the sky, scanning the greying land below for prey. Just flew up and away from the petty dust on the ground. It was because of that, that Regina envied her more than any other creature she'd ever come across. To have the ability to take that leap and ride unseen currents away to a brighter place, it seemed like nothing less than a gift from the Gods._

_She breathed it in, whenever the bird deigned to rest on her leather glove. The scent of the sky and the taste of a consciousness who didn't mind sharing it._

_One fateful day however, when Regina was caught up with household chores at sundown, Strix must have been out scouring the countryside when she found her way into the barn of a local farmer. Flapping around the interior, the owl didn't notice at first when the barn door was quietly locked from the outside but soon began to panic when she couldn't find an exit point. Circling the walls, the usually docile creature became more and more anxious, sending out loud screeching calls to her brethren for help as she battered against the old wooden beams. And it was this tragic noise that came to the notice of the farmhand Manson. Being a religious man, he unfortunately ran straight to his boss, Old Dimmings in the main farmhouse._

_Bursting into the kitchen, Manson looked up wide eyed and panting, "Sir, sir, there's a monster the likes of which I've never heard before in the barn!"_

_Old Dimmings barely moved from the chair by the fire. "And did the monster get bigger the more sups you took from that flagon of cider, by any chance? _

"_Please go and see for yourself, Master. It's the devil I know it. He's come to take our children's souls. Souls, sir. We can't stand idle while he comes for them."_

_The farmer chuckled then._

_By an unlucky stroke of fate however, it was at that particular moment that Strix flew headfirst into the barn's weathered doors in abject desperation and gave an ear splitting shriek that filtered through the quiet air into the farmhouse's kitchen. _

_And Dimmings threw himself to his feet at the diabolical sound._

"_No worldly animal makes that sound." He pointed at his ageing wife. " Maribelle, gather the villagefolk and our weapons. We have an unknown and dangerous beast in our midst and we must kill it!"_

_Before long a well knit mob of unshaven men and hatchet faced women from the town were on the march and by the time Regina saw the lights of their flaming brands silhouetted against her window, she was too far behind to stop them from doing anything._

_But she knew something was horribly wrong. She could feel it in the tightness of her chest, so throwing the dishcloth down, she headed out anyway._

_She ran towards the communal shouts in bare feet, her heart hammering with strange thoughts that Strix might be in trouble as the throng gathered outside the barn and called for home-grown heroes to take on the great beast._

"_I'll slay it," shouted Brandon the daubmaster._

"_Faith be with you," called the crowd and he snuck into the dark barn .Everyone listened as the initial silence was suddenly punctuated by screams and metal scraping painfully on wood. Eventually Brandon came staggering out, his hair wild and scratches running down his face._

"_It cannot be done," he panted. "The beast hides in the darkness and when I felt my way close enough with eyes shut, he scratched at their sockets with a thousand claws."_

_Regina rounded the edge of the main street, flying past the well with fear burning her lungs._

"_Pah!" said the brothers Brenton. "We three shall soon dispatch it." Taking their burning pitchforks with them, they ventured inside for a moment or two as the door was secured behind them. There was no sound this time just an eerie hush for minute after minute until frantic knocking hit the inside of the door. Opening it up, two of the brothers backed out carrying the prone body of their kin._

"_It blew out our fire with great breaths of wind!" _

"_It must be the size of a dragon!"_

"_Michaelis snuck up the ladder to corner it in the eaves but it pushed him off!"_

_The two heaving men looked down at their unconscious brother. And both intoned together, "No man can kill this beast. No man could even get close."_

_Regina had made it and the shouts she'd just heard confirmed her fears with ice clarity. Pushing her way through the angry crowd, receiving a few slaps for her impudence she came to the front and grabbed at the local vicar's gown. _

"_Please stop. It's not a beast. It's just a bird, he's my friend. He'd never hurt anyone intentionally, he's just scared and trapped." She panted._

_Pulling her away by the wrist, Father Charys shook his head. "Someone hold this child back, she's clearly been placed under the creature's influence."_

"_No! Listen to me. It's not..."_

_Regina screamed with tears in her eyes as two strong arms wrapped around her and held her in stasis. "No Father, please! He's harmless. He's beautiful..."_

_A hand clamped down over her mouth and she tasted sour vegetables as her eyes began to flood openly. Fighting against her captor, she tried to fling herself free but it did no good. After all what use was a sixteen year old girl against a farmhand of thirty and three?_

_The crowd was going wild now. "What shall we do?" "Who will save us?"_

"_Our sins do not deserve this!" _

"_We could go in as one!" "This is your doing!"_

"_Cross yourselves or it may addle you too!"_

_But then suddenly a loud, authoritative voice cut through the chaos._

"_Friends!"_

_Regina's heart lifted as she saw her mother standing there in her red robe. Set apart from the crowd, she surveyed the scene with hooded eyes._

"_We are a village of intelligent and powerful people are we not?"_

_The clamour died down at her words and Regina allowed herself to hope._

"_And when cultivated strength and brawn are not the answer, we must turn to more..." She smiled coldly, "primitive methods."_

"_What's more primitive than strength?" shouted one cocky youth but he turned silent when Cora turned her gaze on him._

"_We have grown far beyond our ancestors in every way but there is one legacy they left us that can take care of this little...problem."_

_Furrowed brows met her and Regina's chest clenched painfully as she finally realised what her mother was saying. Struggling weakly in her captive's arms, she cried out inside her head, all optimism leaving her body. _

_No mother. Not that. Anything but that._

_Cora Mills stared round at her audience and opened her arms wide. "You even brought the answer with you." Pointing at the burning brands that sent shadows scurrying across every human face, she licked her lips. "Burn it down. Burn it down until there's nothing but ash under your feet. A thousand claws mean nothing to the flame."_

_Regina watched then as her worst fears came to pass. Every burning piece of wood was placed around the walls of the barn and some tossed onto the roof for good measure. It took less than a minute for the old timber to catch and with an audible whoosh the whole structure caught. With all the hay and kindling inside, the fire quickly became an impressive inferno and the crowd had to take some steps backward as it began to prickle at their skin._

_It was monstrous and horrifying, sending sparks into the dark sky as if celebrating its own magnificence._

_It was at this point that a hideous, self pitying squeal cut through the hissing and popping. Echoing into the night, Regina listened traumatised as her one true friend screamed, her talons splitting, her feathers scorching, her beautiful body finally dropping her into the heart of the flames. And then she was silent. Gone. Defeated by the fears of Regina's own townsfolk._

"_The beast is dead!" they cried jubilantly, unaware that the young girls heart was breaking._

" _We are saved!" "Lord preserve us!" "We are undefeated!"_

_Regina could do nothing but stare at the ground, every muscle clenched and painful with lactic acid and guilt. And she knew she'd never get that sound out of her mind, as long as she lived. Not as long as..._

"_Daughter," said a voice then and she looked up into a tear-blurred vision of her mothers grinning face. She watched numbly as Cora knelt down and brushed a strand of dark hair behind her ear. "There is a lesson here you know."_

_Regina frowned with confusion._

_And Cora laughed._

"_Perhaps you should pick your friends more carefully, dear."_

_The throng of people swirled around them before she could even think to form a response and with shouts of celebration, Cora was drawn away from her desolate daughter surrounded by promises of drinks and coin that few would remember in the morning._

"_See you at home, Regina." She shouted above the maelsteon._

_It was the last thing that Regina heard before she was left alone to sink to her knees in the dirt._

Straightening up in her chair, brought back to the present, Regina had to stop herself from checking the interior of the diner for eavesdroppers. Truth be told, the story had gotten away from her, she really hadn't meant to tell so much but it was too late to take it back now.

It was out there, in the world. In Emma's mind.

Steeling herself, trying to keep her emotions in check, she finally looked over at the Sheriff. "You see, my mother had two reasons for doing what she did."

The blonde didn't move but unburdened sympathy shone from her face. "To take away the thing that gave you such joy."

"That was one of them." Regina supped her coffee with a cheerless nod. "What I didn't know until later was that in her early days of taking hearts, she hadn't quite worked out what to do with the bodies. The evidence."

The blonde chewed her lip then exhaled with realisation.

"The barn."

"Very good Sheriff. Underneath the layer of straw and the hay bales, were at least twelve missing people from neighbouring villages, all of them with a very incriminating hole in their chest."

She threw her hands up with a weak smile. "And when Strix burned, so did her crimes."

"I'm sorry Regina." Emma swallowed, hoping that the Mayor could see that she meant it.

"Yes well it was a long time ago."

"Doesn't mean it hurts any less."

Emma scratched her chin empathetically. "Pain has no shelf life. At least that's what I've found."

_Too true, _thought Regina although she said nothing. Just pursed her lips and practiced looking unaffected.

Emma wasn't planning it. And in fact if she'd taken the time to think about it, she never would have gone ahead but purely on instinct in that moment when she saw the Mayor trying to fix her uncaring face on, she found herself reaching out across the plaid table cloth and rested her hand on the mayor's wrist.

To her surprise the brunette didn't flinch or move away, just stared down at the limbs with vague astonishment.

"Thank you. For..." Emma hesitated. "...That."

And Regina smiled, strangely enjoying the warm feeling of the blonde's skin on hers. "You're welcome Sheriff."

The truth was she felt lighter than she had in years. Not that it meant anything.

Pure coincidence, that was what was happening here.

Purely Coincidental.

It didn't mean that she couldn't enjoy the sensation though. It would be churlish not to after all.

So she left Emma's hand there for a moment.

Just a moment.

That was the plan, anyway


	3. Tells Chapter 3

**A/N: Hello again from the darkness. Had a slow day at work so managed to sneak some SQ writing in- whoop! FYI though, haven't really managed to BETA this much so if there's any mistakes, thats my bad. Once again massive thank you's to all who reviewed, followed and favourited, you guys totally rock. Just to let you know, I'm also planning to weave the backstories a little more into the drama thats happening in the next few chapters, just to stop it getting tedious. Please let me know if you have any ideas/thoughts/criticisms on this or any other aspect of the story- I'm all ears, people.**

**Anyways onwards, good ladies... and please enjoy.**

**TELLS: CHAPTER 3**

It wasn't normal to be this nervous.

Not normal by any stretch of the imagination.

But it was too damned late to figure out what the hell was going on with her now, because Emma had already pressed the ringer.

The sound of the bell echoed through the marble hall, reverberating off the shining surfaces inside. It was closely followed by the sound of heels clip-clopping across the parquet floor with a little more of a heavy tread than seemed strictly necessary.

_Figures, she wouldn't be wearing slippers or socks like any normal person at this time of night, _thought the blonde twitchily.

A shadowy figure appeared behind the glass in front of her then, and Emma steeled herself as she heard the impatient noises of multiple latches and locks being undone.

The door opened stiffly. And there stood the mayor, a mask of unfettered annoyance on her face.

And Emma gulped inwardly.

"Sheriff, this is very unorthodox. I hope that there's a good reason for you turning up at my door at this hour."

Emma could do little but shuffle her feet, keenly aware that her own horrible discomfort must be written all over her face. At turning up unannounced. At daring to impinge on the mayor's private time after midnight.

_Jesus, she really had to rein herself in. _

"Apologies Madame Mayor, the thing is we got a report down at the station that a few residents had seen someone prowling around the area." Said Emma, raising her chin.

"And your first thought was that I might have nipped out in my ninja ensemble in a midnight attempt to disturb my closest neighbours?"

"No! I was just thinking that…" The blonde paused abruptly, frowning. "What's a ninja ensemble?"

"Miss Swan…"

"Seriously, don't they just wear like a wrap-around one piece? How is it an ensemble?"

Emma suddenly noticed the tapping foot and the abject look of irritation the face of the brunette in front of her and swallowed the next glob of questions in her throat.

"Right. It's metaphorical, doesn't matter."

Ignoring the raised eyebrow in front of her, she decided to forge on.

"So…assuming that you're not actually the culprit, I figured, biggest house on the block, all the windows lit up like Christmas, and all your beautiful things on display...it might be a good idea to just check up on you guys. Make sure there's no sign of any break ins, you know."

Emma shrugged, waiting for the snarky commentary that was undoubtedly going to be heading her way. But…it didn't come.

Even stranger was that Regina seemed to be considering the logic of what she'd just said, with a completely indecipherable look on her face.

And damn if that wasn't a whole new thing, if nothing else. To not have everything that came out of her mouth completely disregarded at source.

Truth be told, it threw her more than if the mayor had simply shut the door in her face.

Sniffing imperceptibly, the brunette peered down at the Sheriff. "You think I have beautiful things?"

"Uh, not exactly." Emma scratched at the back of her neck. "I was just kind of quoting Sidney's latest puff piece on the styling's of Storybrooke."

"Well, I don't suppose I'd really expect the owner of that yellow monstrosity to recognise class when she sees it."

Emma didn't need to look behind her to know that the mayor was referencing her beloved bug but she let the barb go. After all, Regina wasn't the only one who had looked forward to a quiet uninterrupted night. Sometimes plans changed.

"Fair point," she replied evenly. "Do you...uh...mind if I come in and just take a look over your doors and windows? It won't take long, it's more for my own peace of mind."

The brunette stilled, strangely unsure what to do.

It wasn't that the Sheriff hadn't been in her home a hundred times before, but this time felt… different somehow; a combination of the late hour and the unusually benign circumstances she guessed. Since there was no magical threat forcing their hand, no crisis that demanded they work together for the good of the town, it almost felt slightly surreal.

But that didn't really explain it either.

If she was being honest, there was also the almost indiscernible shift in their relationship that had occurred over the last few weeks. Each of them somehow ending up sharing what should have been private glimpses into their lives before this place. The whirl of confusion that filled Regina's mind when she remembered the look on Emma's face in her office after her confession was still vivid and uncomfortable. Even more so when she'd felt the blonde's hand rest on hers in the cafe the other day; the tiniest of movements that no-one else had even noticed. It had been a conciliatory gesture. One that she knew she should have shaken off immediately but at the time, for some unspeakable reason, she hadn't been able to muster up the energy to do.

Because the hand had been warm and comforting in a way she never would have expected. And on top of that, there had been sparks.

Small electric currents that raced up her wrist from the patches of skin that touched. Currents that she could feel building inside her stomach right now...

"Regina?"

Emma's voice snapped her back to the present and she stared down into open green eyes, a hint of hurt dancing in them at her hesitation.

Swallowing hard, the mayor took the plunge- went against all her instincts and held the door open.

"Very well Miss Swan. Serve your public."

With a shaky smile, the blonde stepped past her then and wandered into the great hall of the mansion. Surveying the spotless interior, she clearly felt more than a little out of place and unconsciously brushed a hand down her blue leather jacket.

"I guess I'll start down here, then do a sweep upstairs." She turned. "If that's ok?"

The request for permission almost knocked Regina sideways again; especially after all of the heated arguments they'd shared with nary a shred of politeness in them. But holding herself rigid, she managed to maintain her equilibrium and nodded in agreement.

"Right."

Emma wandered away into the kitchen and the mayor followed her at a slight distance, watching passively as the Sheriff fiddled with each lock and window catch. She didn't expect much of a problem since the mansion had undergone extensive work only a year ago, but she appreciated the thorough methodical way in which the blonde worked. The kitchen was deemed secure soon enough.

They moved onto the study next and again with a sure thorough hand, each entry and exit point was probed and tested by the sheriff in turn.

Maybe it was the lateness of the hour, but the more she watched, the more Regina found herself getting lost in the miniscule movements across the room. The blonde's slender fingers were strangely mesmerizing, drawing her gaze to them with each minute that passed. They flexed outward before each investigation then ran gently down the mechanisms that locked her home up tight, the motions instinctively gentle and unobtrusive.

It was surprising to the mayor. But then a lot of things seemed to at the moment. So she simply stood there leaning against the wall, as the blonde went about her business, a grimace of concentration etched into her face.

"Fascinating stuff, huh?"

Regina froze. "Sorry?"

Emma grinned lazily. "Watching the help doing their thing."

The mayor uncrossed her arms, and smiled softly. "You're not the help, dear. You're..."

She found herself at a loss then as to what Emma was. A friend? No, that was too implausible to be true; far too simplistic. An enemy? No, that didn't fit either. At least not lately. So what was she?

An employee?

Too cold.

A colleague?

Too professional.

_Oh for Gods sake, stop acting like a child, _Regina chided herself. Keeping her tone light, she shrugged.

"You're...at _least_ one rung above that. The way a bus-boy outranks the garbage man."

"Wow, a whole rung. Go, me!"

Emma pumped a fist in the air before going back to the fireplace and bending down to peer up into the dark shaft.

And the sight of the blonde's head disappearing into the blackness above her suddenly struck the mayor as completely ridiculous.

Trying to suppress a grin, she cleared her throat.

"I'm sorry, should I have been keeping an eye out for chimney ninjas all these years?"

"Dark spaces mean dark thoughts," mumbled Emma although her lips tugged upwards at the playfulness of the mayor's question. "And dark thoughts lead to dark deeds. Derk taught me that."

"Derk?" said Regina quietly, the thrown away sentence reminding her of a million regrets.

"Yeah he was kind of the training bra equivalent for bounty hunters."

Emma stood up straight, and worked out the kinks in her spine. "Before I was even allowed to hold a gun, I had to study people. The human mind, you know. So eventually I could react to behaviour that hadn't even happened yet and judge the appropriate level of force to use."

"And we circle back around to those tells you keep going on about." Surmised the brunette.

Emma bit on her lip. "Right."

Sensing a new burst of uncertainty inside the blonde, the mayor suddenly realised with powerful clarity exactly what Emma was doing.

She was being gracious.

Being gracious and giving her an out, for want of a better word. A way to head off any more tales from the shady Boston life that the girl had lived before coming here to Storybrooke. A way out of their new found honesty and all the complications that came with it. Now, she was free to simply change the subject. She was free to prattle on about something completely unrelated and as a result they could go back to the pithy small talk they were so good at.

Go back to the 'good old days.'

But... and she discovered this with an audible intake of breath... The god's own truth was that she didn't want to go back. Not to the loneliness and pent up place she'd been living in for years. Underneath it all, she longed to know more about the blonde in front of her. More about how she came to be, what experiences had made her into the Saviour years before she even took on that irritating little moniker. To see if they had anything in common that could explain how drawn she was to the other woman. Some shared misfortune to blame it on.

She was desperate for it. Sickeningly, pathetically desperate

Caught in the glow of the epiphany, she simply said the only words that would come out of her mouth.

"Please go on..."

And Emma threw her a gloriously genuine smile as she realised what that nondescript response meant. Motioning for them to move into the dining room, she turned her head a little.

"Well Big Derk was… this huge bear of a guy who by all accounts had been the main man back in the day. By the time I met him, he was way past his best, beer gut hanging out, not much left up top but I guess the outfit thought it'd be a shame to waste his skills so they had him helping out in behind the scenes."

A thousand still images flashed beneath her eyelids as she tried to remember.

"We buddied up for over three months. And every day was the same. Literally every day. I mean a different spot, a different café in the city but with the same purpose. We'd find a table where we could prop our backs against the wall then watch. 'Eyes on', that was what he used to say, regardless of whether it was… skeeze alley or some upper-end wine-bar. And we'd sit. Just sit. For hours- not moving, barely sipping a drink, while we watched all those faceless people going about their lives. He showed me what to look for. How to zero in on the woman's finger scratching at her chin, or the man's incessant need to play with his wedding ring when he phoned his 'secretary'.

She unscrewed a nail carefully in the dining room window shade as she went on. "It was so much information, it was almost overwhelming. Some days I went home and had to draw the blinds I had such a headache from concentrating. But it was a great learning curve too. About people and their unconscious little ticks."

"Like the extra blink from a waitress that signals her distaste for a certain customer?"

"Yeah, exactly like that…" Emma nodded perkily. At least until she noticed the ever so slight slump in the brunette's shoulders and stopped her ministrations on a particularly rusty latch.

"You mean Ruby?" she asked quietly.

Regina simply raised her chin. "It's of no consequence."

"It is, if what she's doing hurts your feelings."

The brunette gave a short bark of laughter.

The sound was strangely hollow to both their ears.

"I appreciate the sentiment but after all these years, Sheriff Swan, if all that gets hurt are my feelings then I think I've done all right."

Emma looked at her for a moment, considering that, all thoughts of her past forgotten. Considering all the terrible and spine-tingling things she had heard about the buttoned up woman in front of her. Finding herself eerily aware of the silence that was hanging between the two women, she also discovered a new awareness that she wanted desperately to let the brunette know that she didn't have to live this way. Alone and wound so tightly.

"You liked him." Said Regina suddenly.

A frown answered her.

"This Mr Derk."

"Yeah," Emma allowed herself a small smile then, "I did. He was intimidating and imposing and a hell of a thing to look at, but underneath it all, he was pretty much the sweetest guy I've ever met. It was…surprising."

She ran her hands along the window sill, checking the seal.

"I could see how that might be…" Regina paused, momentarily struggling for words as she stared at the blonde's twisted spine.

_Intriguing? Intoxicating?_

"…comforting. In a new place."

She let out the breath she hadn't even been aware that she'd been holding. The blonde a few feet from her was _very_ aware of it though and turned to stare at the mayor with some confusion.

"Regina?"

The brunette's eyes narrowed, "Yes, Sheriff?"

"I…That was…"

Regina blinked, "Spit it out dear."

"That last comment almost sounded like… empathy."

They locked eyes.

"It's the acoustics in here, they have a tendency to distort things."

Breathing out with frustration, Emma turned fully to face the brunette. And forced herself to move a step closer to the mayor.

"You don't have to do that you know."

"Do what dear?" the brunettes said innocently. Although she wasn't fooling anyone.

"Deflect anything that might remotely resemble a compliment."

Opening her mouth wide, for a second Regina looked as if she was about to say something unplanned, something she hadn't thought about and analysed for who knew how many hours and Emma leaned in a little closer in anticipation…. but then, just as her heartbeat began to speed up, it was gone again. The slightly lost glaze in those brown eyes was absent too and the folded arms were back, clenched underneath silky hair.

"Some habits are hard to break, Miss Swan."

"Doesn't mean you stop trying, does it?"

The blonde felt her skin begin to tingle as she took another step towards the mayor, fully appreciative of the fact that she really had no idea why she was doing it.

But it felt right. In a way that nothing had since she'd come to this damn place.

It was almost as if something else was controlling her limbs and now that she was facing the mayor, she could feel the last shreds of resistance melting away. A brief flash of nervousness and concern in the brown eyes opposite drawing her forward even more.

It was the same feeling she had encountered in the café, albeit in a much more potent form. And damnit if she wasn't going to just enjoy herself for once and see where things lead.

"Miss Swan, this isn't…."

Emma watched as the brunette lifted her hands up slowly, as if that could provide any kind of barrier between them. In fact it made her take the next step closer with even more speed.

"I think it is," she said, eyes blazing.

"Please don't."

The tremor in Regina's usually authoritative tone hit Emma deep in the gut and made her muscles clench but she kept moving. Step by step, Emma crept up to the other woman, until at last, she was merely an inch from her, her stomach resting against the hands that hadn't been lowered fully.

"You feel it, don't you?" she asked.

The brunette shook her head, unable to speak.

"You feel it when I'm close to you."

This one wasn't a question and Emma didn't need the answer anyway. Reaching out a hand, she lightly brushed a strand of hair behind Regina's ear, taking pleasure in its soft texture.

"You don't…you don't understand what you're doing," came a tremulous voice.

"I'm pretty sure I do." Replied the blonde.

Leaning in, until their lips were barely a millimetre apart, the blonde breathed in, inhaling the spicy citrus scent of Regina's skin. It made her head go all fuzzy but nothing was going to stop her now, she had to know what those lips would taste like.

What they would …

Thump.

Suddenly they were plunged into darkness as a loud muffled crash echoed down the curved stairway from above.

Both women froze like statues.

"Henry?" whispered Emma quietly, still very aware that her mouth was maddeningly close to the mayor's

Regina shook her head. "He's at a sleepover."

Another smash rebounded above them, directly overhead this time and they both turned to stare at the hallway with muted breath before Emma grasped at the clip on her firearm. Pushing Regina slightly behind her, she counted to three as slowly as she could manage then began moving towards the stairway.

"God I hate this town," she muttered.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hey guys massive apologies for the delay on this one, had a bit of writers block over who the mystery intruder should be! Just in case you're wondering- this isn't exactly canon so in this world Regina hasn't got her magic and a lot of series one eps never occurred. I would say more but I don't want to give the game away- and I apologise in advance to a certain branch of shipdom (you'll see what I mean at the end.) Anyways once again, thanks so much for reading, uber thanks go to reviewers/favouriters/followers and as we all know, I live for comments so please feel free to get in touch.**

**Onwards then!**

**TELLS: Chapter 4**

"Madame Mayor, I think one of your minions might have got free of their shackles," whispered Emma with an anxious smile.

She didn't need to turn round, to feel Regina bristling behind her at the comment.

"_If_ I had minions, Miss Swan, I think you'll find there's nothing in this world that could free them if I didn't wish it."

Emma laughed. "Fair enough."

Unclipping her weapon with as little sound as possible and checking the barrel with her fingertips, the grin dropped from Emma's face as she glanced up at the balcony hoping to catch any kind of movement.

But there was nothing.

Just silence and the sounds of hushed breathing coming from the brunette behind her.

Hitched breathing actually.

She tried her best not to read too much into that.

"Right, so this is what we're going to do," she said turning and staring at Regina. "I'm going to make my way up the staircase and start sweeping the rooms. You need to stay here, find a way call the situation in to the station then find somewhere to hole up until we know what we're…."

But before she could finish, Emma felt a finger rudely pushed up against her lips.

"No, _this_ is what we're going to do Miss Swan. Firstly, there will be no calling the station. If it turns out to be a squirrel or a possum that got in somehow, _I _am not going to be the one explaining that to a SWAT team. Secondly, _we _are going to go up there and investigate. I may not have my magic at the moment but neither am I a trembling wallflower either- I keep a variety of weapons hidden around the mansion in periodic places as any good mother would. And thirdly," she gave an icy sniff, "I am not a 'hole up' kind of girl… and before you spin that comment into something tawdry and sexual, I would like to remind you that I pay your salary, Sheriff."

The foyer descended into silence again.

And Emma could do little but glare back at the Mayor's stone faced expression. Although she noted in some small part of her brain, that Regina hadn't taken her finger away yet.

And let's face it, that was just too good to resist. Taking the opportunity, she opened her mouth and gave the digit a little nip, raising an eyebrow when Regina pulled her hand back in shock.

"I guess it's a deal then," the blonde said with a sigh. I'm still going first though, since we haven't reached one of your military arms caches yet." She turned away to face the dark hallway for a moment, then spun round again.

"Um, you wouldn't have a torch anywhere to hand would you?"

_Good question, _thought the mayor.

Regina considered for a moment, racking her brain for the answer then snuck off towards the kitchen, her familiarity with the house meaning that she had no need to feel her way around. Disappearing from view for a second, Emma's chest constricted as she waited for her to reappear, all the while her mind whispering to her that her companion was safe and well.

Then she was back, a dark shape clutched in her hand, her fingers splayed over it and Emma let out her breath.

"Your torch."

Holding it out, Regina found herself momentarily glad that her face was hidden in shadow as Emma took the thing off her. This was not going to go down well and she knew it.

In truth it took the blonde a few seconds of pressing the on button to no avail, before she noticed that the implement wasn't exactly a standard shape.

Peering closer at it, she made out a plastic pigs snout with two enlarged nostrils where the bulbs were screwed in. Feeling along the edge, she pressed a nodule in and watched askance as a small flap sprang out of the side. Pressing the flap in for a few seconds, she watched the snout begin to light up, glowing brighter as she pressed in each time. Squeezing the thing as fast as she could for a second, Emma turned the beam on Regina.

"Are you freaking kidding me!?"

She only just made out the upturn of the brunettes lips in the dim shaft of light.

"It's Henry's; we got it at the home depot in case of a power cut."

Emma pumped her fist irritably and the light brightened again.

"And, well… not to point out the obvious, Sheriff Swan but…" Regina motioned to the shadows around them, not even bothering to finish the sentence, watching as the blonde in front of her huffed with her whole body.

"And this is the only torch you have in your entire, massively oversized house?"

"Of course not." There was a pause. "The industrial one is upstairs."

"Safely stowed alongside your massive stash of AK-47's apparently," Emma muttered sourly.

"Quite."

She had no idea why but the younger woman's obvious exasperation with her seemed to be quickly overpowering the sense of enjoyment that Regina was experiencing at their ridiculous situation. Usually, that sort of thing made her day infinitely brighter but the coiled worry in her stomach about what they might come across upstairs appeared to be tainting it...so she relented a little.

Reaching out, hesitantly at first due to the poor light, she clasped the blonde's arm and slid her hand down to rest on the other woman's wrist.

"I'm…sorry about the torch, I never really considered what would happen if I or Henry had been stuck down here in a crisis."

Regina felt the skin under her fingers still.

And waited.

"Apology accepted then." Said Emma begrudgingly, kind of hoping that the brunette would be too busy feeling guilty and wouldn't feel her pulse jumping all over the place.

"And not to change the subject, but do you think perhaps we should move past this and investigate exactly what's going on in the rest of my home?"

At that, the Sheriff straightened her shoulders and rested her right hand lightly over the Mayor's.

"Yeah we should. Ok, so I'll go first and you follow right behind me. Deal?"

The older woman bit her lip. "Deal."

Turning to face the dark atrium, Emma kept her palm pushing in and out at a steady pace and began taking footsteps into the small circle of light that spun out from the torch. Shaking her head, she tried desperately not to think about how ludicrous this must look from the outside. A woman of the law using a child's toy to investigate crime.

_Jesus, what was next, a foam baseball bat for a weapon?_

At least... that's what she was definitely not thinking about... right until she felt the Mayor's fingers grip onto the fabric at the back of her shirt, dragging the cotton across her skin. From that point on, she was absolutely, positively not thinking about that new sensation or the way it sent threads of exhilaration up her spine.

Regardless, they crept onwards like that, mounting the bottom stair as it curled around and up. Planting each footstep silently on the carpeting, they made it up to the landing and stopped, scanning the hallway for movements or sounds.

But there was nothing. Not even a slight breeze from the open window at the far end. Tensing a little, Emma motioned for Regina to follow her as she made her way over the long maroon threads.

Until there was a low purr in her ear.

"It sounded as if it was coming from the master bedroom."

It took all of the blonde's reserve in that moment, to keep from turning around; the sound was so low and piercingly husky. In fact she was sure she could feel it bouncing off the small patch of skin underneath her ear and it seemed to be throwing off all the attention she was trying to employ given their current situation."

"I…um…."

Christ, where the hell had all her words gone?

She focused, trying her best to control the turbulent thoughts spinning through her brain.

"…Would you mind if we checked there first then?"

_How surprisingly sweet._

Thethought came unbidden to Regina behind her; it caught her off guard that the Sheriff would care enough to ask whether she had permission to enter her room. Leaning forward again, keenly aware of the tiny goosebumps lining up on the blonde's skin as she did so, the Mayor couldn't help grinning when she whispered,

"Best make the most of it, Miss Swan, you won't get many other chances to see my personal… chambers."

Emma's brain just about imploded. With the alluring tone of the voice, it felt as if it was crawling around inside her skin.

Not trusting herself to reply, the ever present comeback not even close to materialising, she nodded weakly and felt the breath on the shell of her ear move away.

_Holy hell! Inappropriate much?!_

Emma caught her breath and started them moving again, if only to focus her thoughts a little as the darkened portraits and artwork inched past.

Creeping along the wall, they stole onwards, steps in synch, skin an inch away until the blonde felt a restraining pressure on the small of her back.

"It's the door to the right."

She blinked trying to clear some of the gloom from her eyes. Then, steadying her hollow breath, Emma pushed lightly on the mahogany wood of the closed door, testing its resistance. It began to swing open as she clicked the safety off her revolver and squeezed the plastic flap on the torch to try and get the most amount of light out of the outlandish pig in her hand.

They could see into the room now and even in the dim light, it took her breath away.

Not just the deep reds and creams that matched perfectly with the furnishings, but the stylishness and simplicity of the arrangement. The four poster bed was draped with some kind of fine linen although the colour was impossible to make out and every surface gleamed. This was the room of someone in control of everything. It practically screamed it.

That wasn't the biggest surprise though. That came from the chaotic array of hats that were strewn across the plush white rug on the floor; the items tumbled across each other, as if they'd offended somebody by their mere presence. Wispy wedding fascinators were elbowing broken reedy summer hats and a single baseball cap too small to be Regina's lay wounded on top of a hard-cased riding helmet. .

"I know who it is. Don't lower your gun." Hissed Regina.

"What the….Why do you have so many h…." Blurted out the blonde and found a hand slung across her mouth from behind, cutting her off.

"Shhhhhh. He'll hear you."

"Who?" mumbled Emma into the skin of the mayor's palm.

It was wet and ticklish and distracted Regina for a moment.

"Jefferson."

"Glad to see you still remember my name, your Majesty."

Both women froze as a seamless black shape stepped out of the shadows near the wardrobe and stood there, leering wildly in the half light of his powerful torch. His dark hair was mussed up and standing out at all angles but all Emma could think about was the fact that she had that stupid pig thing in her grip.

The brunette however had frozen, and as soon as Emma noticed the death mask of electric light on the mayor's face, the sight sent creeping anxiety through the blonde.

"What…what do you want?"

_Regina, stuttering? That's not a good sign._

Emma took an imperceptible step in front of the other woman.

"Really, Regina?"

The man threw his arms out wide, motioning to the mess around them, his coat tails jerking. "You couldn't possibly imagine? Perhaps I just felt like making a collage and didn't have a large enough space at my home."

Her Equilibrium returned with a flash and shaking off her surprise, the mayor sneered. "It's not here, you know. You think I'd be stupid enough to leave such a powerful item lying around in my closet?"

"I don't know." The man called Jefferson's eyes grew even darker, if that was possible. "There seems to be a great deal of stupid leaking out of this world you created."

Regina sucked in a mouthful of air with acid.

And Emma couldn't do anything but watch as the pair of them glared at each other, trying to get a handle on the situation as she kept her gun hand up. They clearly had a history, a dark one no doubt. But beyond the obvious animosity on display, she didn't have a clue as to what it meant. Or how to play it. So she did the next best thing.

Turning to Regina, who was so amped up she was almost bouncing on her heels, Emma cocked her head. "Any chance I might get the Cliff notes for this little reunion?"

The brunette glanced at her then, and the Sheriff was relieved to see some of the hostility leaving her brown eyes.

"Miss Swan, This is Jefferson."

The man gave a small sycophantic bow in the corner of her eye although Emma pretended not to notice.

"Jefferson...?"

"No last name to speak of, I'm afraid Ma'am. Although you can call me Airplane if it helps you keep up."

The Mayor bit her lip, "He was a well regarded hat-maker back in…"

"Milliner!" he spat. "The term is milliner and don't think that I don't know how many of my creations made my way to your realm _and _royal chamber, however surreptitiously."

"The black market has always had its uses," she agreed with a shrug.

Taking a step around the blonde, Regina dropped her free hand and let it rest on her companion's sleeve.

"He was the best milliner in the old world and had the pick of the best fabrics, the rarest fabric jewels. You might say he has a certain talent for playing with …. seams."

_What the hell does that mean? _Thought Emma frustratedly

"And unpicking them. You always seem to leave that out in your introductions."

The pointed way in which he said, raised Emma's hackles and she looked to Regina for some kind of coded clue as to what was happening.

"Anyway, he obviously came here tonight to retrieve a hat that has… a certain value in crossing borders between realms."

The brunette put her hands on her hips with a smirk. "But unfortunately for our unintended guest, that particular item is safely stowed somewhere he cannot reach."

Emma's gaze switched to the man and the shoulders that seemed to slump as he heard that.

"A shame no doubt."

But apparently he wasn't done. Taking a few steps around the west wall of the room, the lofty interloper stopped at the gilt edged mirror and tapped his longer finger on the obsidian glass.

"There is more than one way to skin a cat though. So they say."

Regina gave a small laugh. "Well good luck with that idea. He's not in there anymore. That's got less chance of working than the hat."

Both women blinked as he narrowed his eyes and slapped the wall.

"So just to clarify, this is a world meant to trap us... Except him. Your little pet advisor gets freedom instead?"

"Of a kind." Said the mayor, quietly

"It is a _mixed_ up world isn't it?!"

The new, previously hidden lyrical quality in his voice unnerved Emma no end and she tested her trigger finger imperceptibly.

"One day you're just a guy trying to earn a buck, the next you're standing on an invisible chessboard next to a line of other bulb headed morons. Where's my hat, you ask? No hats here mate, we're just the advanced guard. No names, no clothes… just one colour or the other. Black or white. That's the only choice left."

Swivelling on his heels, a sheen of madness lit up his eyes and Emma felt her pulse quicken as he stared at the two of them.

One thing was clear though. This guy was off the charts messed up and as much as Regina might think she had the upper hand in this situation, somehow something deep in Emma's gut told her that that was an error.

That this Jefferson was building up to some kind of psychotic break they really didn't want to be there to witness.

_The time for talking is way past done, _she decided.

"Ok, well this has been great and real educational but since we've established that you're out of luck in the magic…uh...apparel department, can I suggest you make your way home," she said firmly.

With a giggle, the man licked his lips. "Ooh, she's feisty isn't she, Your Highness? No wonder you took her as your own. Some things don't change."

"She did what now?!" said Emma outraged.

"Jefferson!" Regina blushed darkly, much to the law-woman's surprise. "Remember your place!"

_Right that's it. _

She was ending this now.

And they could definitely discuss that throwaway comment later.

"Ok buddy, let's call it a night. Shop's closed now."

Emma strode forward and with her other hand grabbed the man's suede jacket in a vice like grip.

"What, no nightcap?"

The Sheriff smiled coolly. "I think you've had more than enough."

Shoving him towards the doorway, she started to move that way when the crazy eyed man suddenly lurched sideways, clasping her gun arm and dragging behind her back.

She heard Regina call her name from somewhere behind but didn't have time to work out which direction to look in before she was dumped unceremoniously on her back. She felt the revolver fly out of her grip and cursed loudly. It was then that the damning weight of the man's knee came down on her sternum and drove all the breath out of her. Struggling angrily, Emma managed to unearth her arm and slammed it into his jaw but he seemed to barely feel it through the mania written on his face. Giving her a hard slap in the ribs, he proceeded to put all his bulk on her and clamped one hand around her throat.

The pressure was excruciating.

In fact, she didn't know what was worse- the inability to draw in breath or the stinging blockade on her stomach. His grip tightened and she felt the cords in her neck start to burn as tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. Tears of anger and humiliation more than anything. That she'd been taken down so easily.

It might have been her imagination but just for a second, at that moment she thought she saw a shadow rearing up behind Jefferson, as if to smash something into his temple but then she had to squeeze her eyes shut to cope with the pain and she heard the smack of bones on skin.

_Regina! No!_

Emma started to struggle again, desperate to at least distribute some of the load on her body so she could check on the brunette. But there was no give at all. All she could do was jerk round like a fish on a line, drowning in her own embarrassment.

Her lungs were on fire. Her shoulders aching and tender.

And then she felt sour breath on her face.

"She's not the only one who appreciates a good fight in these parts."

Emma grimaced.

Then fought the urge to vomit with revulsion as he licked his way down the side of her face.

"Don't worry though, I just need one thing before I leave."

Emma felt his knees shift on her frame and watched confused and helpless as his hand crept down from her neck, down a few inches or so until it rested over her chest.

"No!"

Regina's scream echoed through the darkness from far away.

"Please not that!"

He stopped then and turned his head, offering a wicked grin. "Oh don't get your knickers in a twist your Majesty. I have no use for a pathetic worthless heart. No matter how much it means to you."

_What?!_

Emma was close to passing out with the myriad of pains in her body but she could have sworn that was what he had said. But it made no sense. On like, six different levels.

"I'm a simple man of simple pleasures."

Both women stared dumbstruck then, as the intruder leaned down and placed his hand firmly over Emma's eyes. She tried to shake her head from side to side to dislodge it, but the effect was useless. It was clamped there, immoveable.

And that was when the burning sensation started. First in her right eye, in the corner... then her left. Itchy to begin with then buzzing as if an insect was walking across her pupil.

It felt like hours passed instead of seconds as the pain was growing and feeding until it was so overpowering that Emma let out an unholy scream, trying to force the blazing pain out of her, any way she could.

It didn't help though. Nothing did until everything went black and she fell into unconsciousness...

TBC!


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Ok peeps, so hands up, this chapter is pretty much filler as opposed to plot but I had the idea and it spiralled from there into a whole chapter! I've also never been so good at writing physical stuff so apologies if certain chapters aren't up to scratch. There will be more plot and story arcs coming up, if people want there to be but for now this chapter is pure SQ angst/lust.**

**Enjoy! And once again I love all of you who review/favourite or follow. Reviews are my own personal catnip!**

**TELLS: Chapter 5**

At first there was darkness.

Just that.

Black, fuzzy grains of nothing seeping around her.

Then after a while, when her eyes had adjusted and her mind had coalesced into something resembling sanity, she was able to make out more. At least by squinting. It wasn't darkness actually, now she looked closer. More of a liquid black that seemed to drip down the unrecognisable surfaces around her; miles and miles of large oddly shaped globules that made their way leisurely down the walls. Dripping at a pace so slow she had to turn her head away to prove there was any movement at all.

Like carnival mirrors reflecting their own reflections of glossy, silken night. With no way to tell how far they stretched out or even how close they were.

It was a strange thing to watch.

Not exactly unpleasant as she tried to analyse it, just...just startling and mesmerising. And actually when she tried to focus on each of the droplets with their fat heads and shiny wet skin, they were kind of alien and… beautiful.

A thought occurred to her then.

If she could just reach out an arm, maybe, just maybe she could just get a fingertip to one. Because Emma found herself longing to touch them. She didn't stop to think about why. Or where the thought might have come from. She just desperately wanted to know what they felt like on her skin.

And after all, she rationalised, they moved so slowly, it couldn't possibly interrupt the flow for more than a second if she just ran her finger along the back of one, could it?

They might even like it. A break from the routine. A change of pace.

Stretching out an arm, the blonde felt her muscles protest as she reached upwards towards the biggest droplet. Elongating her fingers and urging her tendons on, she grimaced as her hand hung in the air, listless and redundant.

Digging her feet into the floor, which was thankfully clear of the dark liquid, she tried again, arching her back to put all her energy into the movement. It was working too. Her arm snuck further forward, edging ever closer to the smoothness of the black bead dangling so tantalisingly over her...

_Mizzzwarr..._

_What the hell?!_

Emma flinched at the unexpected intrusion of sound and drew her fingers back for a moment, chest heaving.

_Where did that come from?_

She glanced around, scanning for any potential source of life that she could find. But there was nothing. Nothing but the endless black wetlands she was already sitting in, devoid of heat or life. Distinctly not human. Indistinctly infinite.

Truth be told, Emma really had no idea how long she'd been here. She could have been out of it for hours, days. And since she'd woken, she could have been sat around indulging herself in staring at the droplets for years, there was just no way to tell.

Staring down at her own wrist, she was cursing the fact that she hadn't thought to put a watch on this morning, when something else began to register in the murk. Another sound. Or at least the whisper of an echo of a sound from what seemed miles away. Straining to catch it, the blonde twisted round, her pulse jumping instinctively when she realised that the view was the same whichever way she turned. The same abstract motion. The same oily gleam.

The same endless expanse of nothing.

Suddenly, in that moment it didn't seem quite so mesmerising to her. In fact, she could feel her skin start to crawl as it began to sense the nearness of the ever moving gobbets in some weird physical way. Panic began to rise in her throat. Fighting it down, she scanned every which way for a change or a break in the greasy surroundings but there was nothing that signalled any kind of man made design. No doors or horizons. It was just slickness. And uniformity. And unstoppable creeping movement.

It was everywhere.

Around her. On her.

She suddenly felt it seeping across her feet and looked down to find the black liquor bubbling up from the ground, inching across pale skin with intention. Crawling upwards, faster this time. Much faster. Wrapping around her ankle bones and sucking at the tender patch of skin where the joint stuck out. As if it had lips and...

Emma screamed.

She couldn't help it. It was an exhalation of terror and frustration laced with rage and it seemed to fly out of her mouth of its own accord. The worst part was that as soon as it hit the air, it then sank weakly, pathetically into the black liquid lining the walls. And the noise was gone, in a second. The oil, making sure that no-one would be able to hear it. That no-one would be able to find her, even if she wanted it.

Emma immediately doubled up with the effort; drained of every ounce of energy she'd had, unsure why she was so weary when she hadn't even done anything. Wondering what she might have done in her life to deserve this…this sweating, black hell.

"Em…ma."

Jerking her head up, she held her breath listening again for the sound she was sure she'd heard, the tiny shred of something that had recognised her, that knew who she was. Where she was. The voice that knew there was a living breathing person down here.

The blonde, waited, her heart hammering.

"Emma."

There it was again. Stronger this time, echoing and reverberating off the slimy sheen around her, totally unlike her own voice that had been sucked into the black bog. She recognised it too. The high pitched edge of concern buried in amongst an almost unconscious disapproval. There was no mistaking that voice and she tried to pinpoint where it was coming from in desperation, hoping that it might lead her to a way out.

"Can you hear me?"

It was practically next to her ear.

Emma screamed again, this time Regina's name rather than meaningless air. But again the oxygen from her lungs sank without trace, leaving her panting and hopeless.

"If you can hear me, open your eyes."

_Sounds easy enough when you say it like that, _thought Emma miserably and in pain, watching as the black goop climbed up her leg, almost to the knee. Smug with its own success.

_How about you come in here and…_

Suddenly everything jolted around her.

Lying on the dark floor of the bedroom, the blonde was slumped awkwardly across Regina's knees, her limbs splayed out like a broken marionette. It had been a good ten minutes since Jefferson's attack when the Sheriff had screamed with such abject horror and every second that went past sent flares of dread through the brunette's body.

She had no idea what he had done but the pain and revulsion etched on Emma's pale skin before the scream had come out, was enough for her to know that it must be a particularly vile strain of dark magic. She'd have to work out what it was that he had taken from the blonde too. And maybe, just maybe then, she could reverse it before even worse was to come. Bring the blonde back to this world from whatever hellish realm she was in right now. It wasn't going to be a charitable place, that much was evident from the glee on the Hatter's face as he ran out.

So now, she Regina had to figure out how to bring back the Saviour, to where she was needed the most. Needed by her son, Henry more than most. By that pair of feeble idiots she called parents. By the townsfolk who looked to an outsider for a sense of stability. Something untainted.

_Anyone else spring to mind? _Her brain whispered mutinously.

The irony of the whole situation made her want to vomit on the spot.

Instead, she took a calming breath and blocked out the questioning voice in her head. Staring down at the other woman, whose face was pale and covered in a sheen of sweat, she leant down and tried again to keep the fear out of her voice.

"Emma…."

Silence flew back at her as she counted to thirty,

"Emma...if you can hear me… wherever you are, try and give me a signal."

She forced her brain to do the count. It was getting harder.

"Or better yet, try and come back."

One...two...three...four...

Not even a breath answered her.

Her brown eyes watering inexplicably, Regina bit down on her own tongue to keep them at bay.

"Please. Just...just use some of that tasteless warrior spirit and come back ….to us. …to…Storybrooke...to..."

She sniffed, keenly aware of how absolutely pathetic she must sound. Of what her mother would say if she could see her now. Of what she would do.

She lowered her voice and spoke softly directly into the blonde's ear.

"Don't keep me waiting, Miss Swan...I have a very tight schedule as you know."

And just like that, beautiful emerald eyes fluttered open and blinked a few times with incomprehension.

Regina almost laughed out loud she was so relieved to see the other woman awaken beneath her. If she'd been thinking more clearly she might have noticed that there was a dull gleam to the green orbs, a sheen of matte across the corneas but in her thankful state, the fact slipped by unnoticed and she simply looked down, grinning wildly for a moment.

Of course, her lifelong training wasn't so easily overcome though and it was barely ten second before she composed herself, returning her hands to her hips and attempting to quell her breathing which escaped in harsh bursts.

"Regina?" The blonde's throat felt as if it was shredded beyond belief and the single croaky word was pretty much all she could manage.

It was the most beautiful sound in the world to the mayor though, guttural tone and all.

She stared down at the blonde curls lying across her black trousers.

"You came back?" she said with soft amazement, before she could censor herself.

Emma smiled weakly. "…You asked me to."

"And since when do you ever do what I say?"

"Seemed like as good a time as any to change our routine." Emma said gritting her teeth at the pain speaking caused. "You know how I like to keep you on your toes."

The brunette smirked.

"Yes well, I think we've had our fill of that today don't you? Perhaps we should just…" she frowned, "…walk flatfoot for a little while."

A blonde eyebrow arched. "Flatfoot?! That's not a word."

"It's a perfectly good word, Miss Swan and a particularly appropriate one when it comes to the offspring of two simpering halfwits."

The Sheriff screwed up her face. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you just called me a mongrel or some kind of crossbreed."

"Well then, I guess it's lucky you have the education to know better then, isn't it Miss Swan?"

Emma shrugged, jerking the mayor's knees a little, as if to say she really didn't know what that meant but had no intention of letting the barb get to her. That they had better things to be concerned with.

It was an easy cover up and surely plausible enough to fool the mayor. At least she hoped so. The throaty tone of relief in the older woman's voice when she'd first spoken had been so noticeable that Emma was surprised the mayor hadn't clamped her mouth shut afterwards for fear of it escaping again. In all honesty, the genuine emotion she'd picked up on had sent tiny shocks of delight through her system when she'd heard it. She'd never really considered the idea that Regina might genuinely be concerned for her before today, at least not in any deeper way beyond their little games of one-upmanship. She'd always assumed that the brown haired woman would at the very most miss having a sparring partner if anything untoward happened to her; would miss the challenge of insubordination and mutiny that livened up the working week and that was it. But this. Regina's reaction. Her own body's reaction to the brunette's tone. This was something new. Something more…more… profound.

And it just about broke her heart to realise that she'd have to come clean sooner rather than later about her current situation. Not when the darker haired woman was so relieved to have her back.

It had to be done though. She knew it. Sometimes you just had to rip the band aid off in one fell swoop.

_Right?_

Coughing for a second as her muscles involuntarily protested, Emma pressed them all downwards and began to attempt to drag herself up. Gripping one of Regina's knees, a bare knee she noted idly, the blonde tried to lever herself up.

After all, how hard could it be?

Swaying wildly as she lurched upwards, she felt Regina's astonishment in the speed at which the pair of arms circled around her, holding her down on the floor.

"Emma, don't you think you should rest for a minute?"

"Nope," she answered, chest burning. "I'm good to go."

Pushing up again, Emma leaned forward, balanced on her knees between Regina's then swung upwards, sliding her feet further apart to give her at least some stability as she made it all the way up. Or at least as much stability as someone who looked like a new born giraffe could get.

Regina's lips turned upward at the sight. "Ever the graceful one."

"Ever the derogatory one," groused Emma as she tried not to show the sensation of burning lactic acid tearing through her system. She didn't miss the slight catch in her companion's tenor though. Or the arm gingerly steadying her elbow.

"Emma, seriously, you need to take it easy. You were out for the count. What Jefferson did...we don't know..."

The mayor trailed off, her fingertips gripping the blonde's skin that tiniest bit harder. And Emma laughed inwardly.

_If only you knew the whole of it._

Her stomach pretty much jumped into her throat at the thought. And so she decided to deflect for at least a few more minutes.

Shaking out her arm muscles, the blonde raised her chin as if the action alone could make her feel more powerful and felt the surroundings swirl around her as she regained some equilibrium. There was a dull ache at the base of her skull that pulsed with each movement but she soldiered on, stretching out her calves then rolling her shoulders as they screamed in silent protest.

All the while though, she could sense Regina's closeness, the hot buzz of her skin millimetres away, in stasis, prepared for any unexpected slip or fall. Any other time, Emma might have chanced playing goose and accidentally tripped, making some kind of joke about catching the other woman unawares but the thought didn't even cross her mind now.

All she could think about was how she was going to tell the brunette the truth. What words she could possibly use to explain all the emotions zip lining through her.

Suddenly she turned to face the other woman.

"You're a good mom, you know that?"

Regina's face wrinkled in confusion. "While true…that's a bit of a non sequiteur Miss Swan, even for you."

The Sheriff smiled wanly, and hesitantly placed her hand over the warm limb bolstering her elbow. "You must have done this a hundred times for Henry over the years."

"I…I suppose so." Regina blinked, staring down at the skin on skin.

"You use just the right amount of support. Without putting pressure…or pushing someone into something they don't wanna do…"

The mayor's pulse was skyrocketing by this point, unsure why Emma was saying these things and in such a horribly melancholy voice.

"You were there to see his face every time he got over something new…and scary. Making sure he was ok without having to say anything at all…"

Regina watched in shock as small glistening drops began to collect in the corners of the blonde's eyes and, she couldn't help herself, she just froze at the sight of them, at the sight of the usually effervescent Saviour sinking into some kind of emotional mire.

Her shock was amplified a thousand times more when Emma reached out a timid hand and let the tips of her fingers briefly rest on the older woman's face. Her skin flushed almost instantly as the warm skin came together and there was no way that the Sheriff hadn't felt it.

Regina stared at her. "Miss Swan...what do you...this is..."

The Mayor lapsed into an unreadable silence as Emma brushed her fingers down her cheek, running them along the jawbone and around her chin in one unhurried smooth motion. She could feel a few loose strands of the dark hair that had fallen out of place and lay across the older woman's face but she resisted the urge to move them behind her ear.

Instead she stepped in closer, bringing herself to within an inch of the brunette and cupped her cheek.

"I was just, uh," Emma whispered with something akin to awe, "reminding myself of something. Sorry."

Regina hadn't moved. From the clench of her throat muscles, she seemed to be fighting some kind of internal battle with herself and Emma at least had the grace to give her a moment to try and take stock of the situation as she continued memorizing her yielding skin. It was a lot for anyone to deal with. She could relate.

After a moment that seemed more like a lifetime, she felt the soft throat underneath her fingers swallowing hard and she let her fingers ride the swell, wondering why she'd never noticed the Mayor's tendency to do that before.

"Remind yourself of...what?"

She felt the sound under her fingers.

"Of how beautiful you are." Emma said simply, facing her.

"Is that a joke?"

Emma's chest constricted at the obvious vulnerability and bitterness behind the question.

"Not even close to a joke. Just a fact. You're beautiful Regina. Anyone who has eyes could see it."

_Ha. The irony._

Using the hand she had been using to cup the older woman's face as a guide, Emma finally moved forward and hoped that she wouldn't do something entirely stupid to mess this up. She only had one chance and she knew it.

She pressed her lips ever so softly onto those in front of her, hitting the corner by accident first. Moving them into synchronicity she began to relish the unexpected supple smoothness of them. Trying to show all of her trust and desire in one action, the blonde brought her hand around the back of the mayor's head to draw her in further and let the kiss continue.

Let the hazy sparks of longing continue to burst behind her eyelids.

It was like nothing she'd ever felt before. Nothing like Neal's sloppy kisses or the brief passionless ones she'd given in to in bars in Boston. This was balmy and wonderful. And she found to her own surprise, that she didn't ever want it to stop.

But the problem was, she wasn't the only one with feelings involved. And Regina for all her natural authority, hadn't moved, not even to acknowledge anything- shock or disgust or any other kind of emotional response to the situation they now found themselves in. In fact, underneath her lips, Emma could practically feel the fearful tension in the rigid posture.

So, she decided to go all in. Hoping against hope.

Closing her eyes and pushing Regina backwards to where she hoped there was a small patch of bare wall, she pressed her lips onto hers again with more force and hunger. Their bodies flush against each other now with the wall as a backdrop, her lips began moving against the others gently, and she let her tongue sweep across the top one with a little playfulness, smiling into the blistering contact.

She smiled because finally the brunette had responded. First there had been a small shudder that had run through her entire body (something that Emma had felt run up hers too in a weird echo) and then there had been a new pressure on the blonde's lips. Not resistance but a retort. A comeback.

A passionate, yearning one at that. Emma practically grinned as Regina kissed her back fully, and slid her tongue inside the blonde's mouth without warning.

She shouldn't have expected anything less.

Tongues slipping over and around each other, Emma buried her hand in soft hair and taking the opportunity, bit down a little on the quivering lip in front of her. It drew a ravenous gasp from Regina who pulled Emma in more deeply as she let herself go. Let herself feel without forethought for once.

And for a minute or two, it was just them. The two of them locked together with no audience except their own desire. Just lips on lips and hot breath that passed between their mouths.

In fact the only reason they pulled apart in the end was the need for breath, and when they were forced to drag themselves away, Regina leaned forward resting her forehead on the blonde's.

"That was..." she panted, too out of breath to try and select the appropriate word.

Emma grinned next to her. "Yeah it was. And more."

She let her hand slide down the woman's left arm, slipping her fingers between the other woman's when she reached the warm palm. Her smile only grew as she found them clasped gently.

"Well I'd say you seem to be somewhat recovered, wouldn't you?"

Emma didn't say anything in reply but tilted her head cockily.

And Regina moved forward again, her voice dropping an octave. "Perhaps I should get my nurse's outfit on, just to be sure."

The blonde's jaw dropped. "That would be...nice."

"Mmmm, wouldn't it." Whispered the mayor huskily as she nipped at the Sheriff's chin.

"Uh, there's just one problem."

The older woman stopped her ministrations.

"And what's that, Miss Swan?" she said with exasperation

"No biggie. You're just gonna have to help me... because I can't exactly see."

It was probably a good thing that Emma couldn't make out the look of abject horror on the mayor's face at that moment.

All she could do was stand there and wait for a response.

...

**Questions- what did Jefferson do? Is it permanent? Can you be the Great Saviour without your sight? And how do you start a relationship with someone when you can't see their face?**

**All will be answered if you're kind enough to drop me a line let me know what you think...:)**


	6. Tells Chapter 6

**A/N: Huuuuge apologies for the delay, life got super intrusive this week. Here's the next chapter- it's getting kind of dark in tone so sorry if that's off putting at all. I'm bringing the theme back to the sharing stories element too so hopefully that'll fit in with the general dramatic plot. You'll have to let me know if it doesn't. Once more...a round of applause for favers, followers and especially reviewers, your interest fuels my inner muse and I'm hoping to post again soon so all comments welcome. More Jefferson and Storybrooke characters coming up so stay tuned. Peace!**

**TELLS: Chapter Six**

"Regina, please!"

Emma flinched, wrinkling her nose as she felt another breath of air waft past her. It had taken her a while to realise exactly what Regina was doing until she started to pick up on the small gust of wind that brushed across her skin every few minutes.

She was pacing. Walking up and down the centre of the room, then turning back and beginning the ritual again, her heeled boots muffled into silence by the deep luxurious rug.

At first she'd wanted to reach out and bring the woman's frantic movements to an end, to try and reassure her that things weren't as bad as they seemed. But something inside seemed to stop the words in her throat every time they tried to get out. Seemed to whisper dark labyrinthine thoughts, as if it looked out through the pores in her own skin.

_Let her pace. It's her fault we're in this mess anyway, _it said inaudibly.

She knew that wasn't true. She knew it and still she kept quiet. And actually as she began to measure the seconds between gusts of air, Emma allowed herself to fall into the rhythm of the motion, and began to find it oddly calming. If nothing else it gave her own brain time to try and get a hold on the current situation. To try and corral some of the insectoid questions buzzing around inside her mind.

Like _what exactly had Jefferson taken from her?_

She felt like the same person inside, except for the coiled panic her body was currently suppressing. But was she really the same? Was she even capable of telling?

_ And what if this was permanent?_

She flicked that one away almost immediately, unwilling to even contemplate the answer at the moment. It was cowardly. She knew that deep down in her bones, but right now, she figured she'd earned a little thinking time.

The problem was, as soon as she pushed that one away, hundreds more questions seemed to surface almost immediately from the dark pools of thought.

_How could she keep her job if she couldn't see anything?_

Being Sheriff hadn't exactly been her intention when she agreed to stay in Storybrooke but somehow she'd grown accustomed to being the first port of call in an emergency. The composed voice at the end of the line, rather than the shepherd tracking down lost scum-bag livestock. And no-one could deny, for a small town, they seemed to have a lot of emergencies. Somehow, despite all intentions she'd been drawn into the lives and loves of the people that lived here, had helped most of them at one point or another even if it was in a trivial way. And without the badge, without an official seal and the authority that came with it, would that just drift away into the blackness too? All those relationships, all those threads of...things indefinable, would they just unpick themselves? The very thought of slinking back to her life before, made her feel nauseous.

And yet the questions kept crowding in.

_How could she take care of Henry? _There'd be no more spontaneous sundaes at Granny's without him holding her arm, showing her the way like some kind of pitiable war veteran. And what if he was the one who needed help? Kids, especially boys as inquisitive as her son had a bad habit of getting caught up in ridiculously dangerous situations. Just look at the old mine on the outskirts of town. If that were to happen now, what role would she have to play? Some faceless co-ordinator sitting in a squad car, waiting for a friendly voice to tell her whether her own son was...was...gone.

Emma took a deep breath, as the worries shifted around her.

_Do they even have disability living allowance in Storybrooke?_

How did people even go about claiming something like that?

_How will I know whether my outfit's co-ordinated in the morning?_

A whoosh of air floated past.

_And why the hell isn't she tripping over any of the hats?!_

Emma broke out of her thoughts through sheer frustration. Judging the number of seconds until Regina was on her second part of the circuit she reached out a hand, and grabbed wildly at her arm.

At least she hoped it was her arm.

Feeling material under her skin, she clamped down. "Regina, please stop."

The motion stilled.

"It helps me think."

Emma nodded, "You know what helps me think?"

"Bourbon?" said Regina thickly.

"Having someone to sound ideas off." She lifted her hand away and held both of them up, as if to placate the older woman. "Besides, the whole moving around thing is kind of messing with my equilibrium." Emma smiled sadly. "Not that I'd say no to some Jim Beam right about now..."

She heard a subdued chuckle from over to her right. "Nice try, dear. We have very few advantages at this moment but a clear mind is one of them."

Sensing the blonde's new uneasiness and seeking a way to calm things down, Regina sat herself quietly down on the edge of the bed next to the blonde and faced forwards towards the wall. Towards the mirror where once there had been a face.

And now there was just the reflection of shadows.

"You might be on your own with that one."

If Regina heard the muttered comment she didn't answer. She was well aware that there must be a whirlwind of emotions cascading through the blonde's mind right now. As incohesive and fragmented as her own thoughts were, the Sheriff's must be a thousand times more demented. Slack and unfixed to anything real; spinning in circles without control. And she found to her surprise, that she wanted to reassure the younger woman. Wanted nothing more actually, than to tell her that they'd figure this out, that they'd fix it no matter what the cost. But the truth was that she didn't know if that was even possible.

The truth was, that she, the Evil Queen was completely lost as to what to do.

And it filled her with rage. Impotent, humiliating rage.

So she stayed silent for a second. And simply laid her hand over Emma's on the silk sheet. Hoping that it was enough encouragement. At least for now. Then she began.

"Let me tell you a story about someone I met a long time ago." She took in a cleansing breath, unsure if she was giving too much away too soon.

"Back in...the old world, there weren't many people in the court that I had any time for."

"Shocker."

Regina flicked Emma's wrist tenderly.

"The problem with people is that whatever their station, all have the same problem. King, nursemaid, town crier or huntsman."

The blonde cocked her head. "They want things they can't have."

"No. They want the things they can just about manage to get if they put everything into the effort. And then once they've got them, they want the next almost unreachable thing. It's the source of our greatest joy and our greatest discontent. The farmer wants one more clutch of eggs out of his best hen because gold is a ridiculous dream for someone in his position. The under-footman wants to be first footman because then he'll get the respect he craves. He never thinks about being master for more than a few seconds at night before sleep takes him because it won't do him any good. Well, you get the picture. Anyway, there was a girl in King Leopold's court who refused to subscribe to this idea. Her name was Tommelise; she was an orphan who'd been found out on a winter's night lying in the castle's begonia crop. One of the kitchen-masters took her in, and fed her until she grew strong enough to work doing odd jobs around the place. Filling the water pails, pulling up the vegetables, things like that I suppose."

She snuck a glance at the blonde who was listening with an unreadable frown marring her features.

"Anyway, she only came to my attention when I came into my chambers one afternoon after mass and found her parading around in one of my finest gowns, every piece of jewellery I possessed slung around her dirty little neck."

A ghost of a smile graced the blonde's lips.

_Probably identifying with the little urchin, _thought the Mayor irritably.

"I asked her what she was doing and she turned round, brazen as you like and said that she was being democratic and giving the outfits at least a choice of who they wanted to wear them. I suppose I could have called the guards at that point but the cheek of her answer... it intrigued me truth be told. Pointing to the room and all the masses of riches contained in there, I took the opportunity and asked her what she would take if she could have just one object."

"I'm guessing she didn't give the standard gold-digger's answer," interjected Emma softly, shifting a little.

"No she didn't. She stuck her finger out and pointed right at me. Calm as anything. I told her quite honestly that she didn't want my life. The tiaras and accolades wouldn't bring her any happiness and it certainly wouldn't kindle any kindness in her heart for others."

An image of sallow flesh pressing down on her below the canopies of their marriage bed suddenly burst behind her retinas and Regina had to press the heel of her palm into her eyes just to keep it at bay. Glad momentarily, that her companion couldn't see what she was doing.

Emma felt the mattress move however, as if it had been flicked by a giant hand and filed the resultant questions that flitted into her mind away for another time. Content in an uncomfortable way just to hear the calm voice wavering with weakness.

"She..." The brunette stopped, trying to find the thread of her story again. "She didn't drop her finger though. She didn't mean the crown you see. She didn't want to take my queendom; that was too easy. Too simple. She meant that she wanted to take my life. Killing Leopold's wife you see, would create chaos and recriminations throughout the realms. She would slip out unnoticed afterwards. Even if she was caught, it would never be suspected that she did it for her own ends, a no-one like her. There would _have_ to have been someone else behind the scenes and the kingsguard would have made certain to torture her until she made something up. Picked a name out of the hat."

Regina could have kicked herself at the choice of words but continued on, lost in the memory. "And the chaos wouldn't just have burned within our land; every other bordering nation would immediately have blamed the other for the assassination starting what could only be called the war to end all wars. Blood would run in the soil for centuries, it would have been inevitable..." Her voice trailed off.

"And she wanted that?"

Emma felt her skin jump waiting for the answer.

Regina turned towards the blonde, hoping that she could understand a little of what she was trying to say. "She did. She told me explicitly right before I had her arrested and executed. Because... some people just want to see the world change in front of their eyes. They want new vistas and new sights, however grotesque that might be. For things to look different; outside the ordinary and... astounding."

Regina batted away the memory of the girl's face as the executioner's massive cleaver cut through her sinewy neck, thrown by how despairing she felt about the whole thing even now. Even all these years later.

"And so says the evil Queen." Emma snorted.

Regina whipped her head round, a little stung. "Excuse me?"

The blonde's chin tilted up. "Oh come on! You can't really expect me to accept moral lessons from someone with your track record on putting trust in the wrong people."

Inwardly Emma was cringing at the rivulets of spite coating her words but somehow, out of nowhere, she couldn't seem to keep control of her own mouth. The itch underneath her skin was driving her insane.

"Let's recap shall we? First there was the ever impressive mother you ran through entire realms to escape from, Cora wasn't it?..."

Regina froze so hot was the instant rage. "You really need that to be the last word in that sentence."

But Emma was quickly losing control of the dark thoughts.

"Yeah, Mommy was a real headfuck, huh?"

She smiled coldly.

"And then there was Mr Go...I mean, Rumplestiltskin," said the blonde, correcting herself. "That was an absolute doozy by the way. Making backhand deals with a guy who with all the tricks in the book couldn't even make his own son love him."

Regina's eyes flashed fire. "Miss Swan..."

"But then they say like attracts like, right? I mean, am I the only one seeing a common denominator here? And who am I to argue against the basic laws of physics?"

Emma knew she'd gone too far as soon as she'd said it. Not that there wasn't a kernel of truth in the statement but bringing Henry into the argument was the lowest of blows. She was flooded with guilt almost instantly and still...Still, something inside her tamped it down. Anger and bitterness she hadn't even been aware of before mingled with it, coating its surface until her head whirled in the darkness.

_What the hell am I doing, _she wondered confusedly. _She's trying to help m..._

The thought was cut off as she felt a tight hand wrap around her neck and push her violently backward onto the bed. The spun silk clung to her hair, she could feel it pulling behind her and in a strange way, she was almost glad of the pain. It reminded her that she had been the one to cause it. _Like for like, indeed._

But still the black voice whispered to her to fight. Clawing at the unbreakable limb around her throat to no avail, Emma franticly tried to drag in a breath as she suddenly felt the heat of a face hanging millimetres away from her own.

"Shut your goddamn mouth, Miss Swan." The voice was crystalline and arctic. "Or I won't be held responsible for what comes next."

It was all the brunette could think to say.

Regina stared down at the choking blonde, pulsing with rage at the naked rejection and vulnerability coursing through her. She'd opened up to the blonde, offering her a painful memory she'd buried years ago and it had been thrown back in her face with a derision she'd never associated with the younger woman before.

And yet even knowing that. Even feeling that, she was awash with contradictory impulses. Wanting first and foremost to slam her fist into the screwed up pale face, to distract them both with the sight of something as viscous and tangible like blood. Wondering how the atmosphere could turn so quickly from what had seemed like some kind of burgeoning camaraderie... a new state of grace in their relationship if nothing else. And at the same time needing to black out her own eyes so that the flashes of old scenes stained with pain and ashes would recede into darkness.

Just for a second, she wondered if perhaps right now, the blonde had the better end of the deal not being able to see the exposed hurt cross the mayor's features. But the idea was gone in a second because she knew it wasn't true. Something was wrong here. Really wrong; beyond the obvious that was.

Something was wrong with Emma.

Regina gritted her teeth and forced herself to think logically.

Peering down without unclenching her fingers, she stared into the unseeing green orbs that were darting around the room. They were still slightly glazed, coated with an opaque sheen; a sure sign of magic at work. But there was something else there too. In the whites of her eyes. Leaning down further, she scanned the sclera of each one separately.

There.

In the corners of each one, a small dark lightning bolt marked the expanse of white. A swollen blood vessel. But not red with blood. Black with some kind of poisonous infection. A contagion.

No. Not a contagion, she thought, panicking now. That would have been too easy for Jefferson.

It was a substitute.

A filler for something that had to have been taken. And the force of that theft had even made it apparent to the naked eye.

Horrified, Regina drew her hand away from the pale neck below, trying not to look at the blooming marks left behind by her own hand. Her own role in this nightmare.

"Twice in one day- this is getting kind of ridiculous." Croaked Emma acidly, massaging her throat.

It was then, that Regina began to understand a little more about the situation they were in. Desperately picking through her other memories, fighting the instinctive resistance around them for some uncomplicated way to explain things to the blonde, she scrabbled around for something. Anything.

And hesitated for a moment.

"Sheriff, you have to listen to me." She said in a whisper.

"I don't have to do a damn thing, except get away from you."

She meant it in so more ways than one, but Emma let the retort hang in the air. Letting the other woman interpret it however she saw fit.

Regina blinked at the rejoinder, but made the decision then to just go with instinct on this one. Reaching down, she slid her hand gently under the blonde's neck and pulled her into a sitting position whereupon she moved directly in front of her. Crossing one leg under the other, she paused then wrapped her hand around the other's wrist, anchoring them together through touch. A soft, reassuring touch that implied apology; the exact opposite of what had happened a minute before.

"Emma."

"What?!"

She squeezed the blonde's fingers lightly and took a steadying breath.

"I know that wasn't you talking."

"I don't see anyone else here." Scoffed the Sheriff before scowling. "Literally or metaphorically. Or...whatever."

"What you're feeling is...it's..."

_What?_

Regina cursed at her own ineloquence. Something she'd taken such pride in all her life that now seemed to be failing her.

"It's not you. Well, actually it _is_ you but there's something else going on too."

Emma sniffed but stopped her slight shivering as if curious to hear where this was going.

The mayor hoped it was a good sign. She brought up her right hand and placed it on the shoulder of the younger woman, frightened by what she was about to say out loud.

"Just like you, there's not a thing I can do to change my past. As much as I might wish it, there's no magic in the world that can erase my...my horrific mistakes from the history books. I live with their memory. As do the people I hurt. _And_ their children who hear the stories second and third hand, with none of the vitriol watered down by the time in between."

She felt Emma still even more under her fingertips.

"It is unchangeable. Infinite. In the same way that your past crimes and misdemeanours will always be. To the police looking at your, what do they call it, a rap sheet? To anyone that knew you then, whether accomplice or victim. All we can control is how we act now. How we view those experiences and how we change what we do and what we say to stop them from repeating themselves."

She braced herself for a backlash but was heartened by the small weary nod thrown her way. Leaning closer, Regina lowered her voice.

"I can't change what I did. But everyone, no matter what their past is capable of treating those around them with grace and kindness. So tell me, in light of that, which one of us is found wanting right now?"

The green eyes in front of her began to tear at the corners and it broke Regina's heart a little to see. But she had to get through to her.

"The things you said, the things you just threw at me, they were meant to hurt me weren't they? Cruel, malicious thoughts, without provocation. "

"I..." Emma's head lowered as she fought the bile collecting under her skin. "They were. But ... I don't know why I..."

"I think I do."

"Is this because Jefferson took my eyes?"

Emma choked back a sob

Regina peered over at the emerald pupils with a soft frown, "He didn't take your eyes Emma. They're still there, you've just...lost the ability to use them."

"Then what? What did he do?"

"I'm not sure."

Emma's head perked up. "But you have an idea?"

The mayor cursed herself, forgetting that every intonation in her voice was being scrutinized by the younger woman.

"It's possible...he didn't take your eyes. I think he might have taken your...perception. For want of a better word." She shifted position for a moment.

"Perception?"

"Your insight. Your way of seeing the world."

The blonde laughed awkwardly. "You can't steal someone's point of view, Madame Mayor."

"Why not?"

"Because...it...changes all the time." She moved so that her knee was resting on the bedspread, unaware that it mirrored the brunette's position. "I'm not the same person I was when I came to town. This place...it's changed how I look at things, how I react to them."

Regina allowed herself a smile at that.

"You're quite right dear. And may I say, thank the lord because _that_ Miss Swan was infinitely trashier and much less of a 'Storybrooke kind of person.'"

"Duly noted." Emma replied.

"But at the root of everything we do, we have a basic genetic predisposition..."

Just then, Emma let out a little gasp as she felt something feather soft touch her eyelid. First one then the other.

"Can you feel that?" Regina asked quietly.

The blonde nodded and held herself still as she felt a warm palm cup her cheek.

"I think...the combination of being the offspring of True Love and growing up in the outside world disconnected from magic means..." Regina paused, somewhat distracted by the earnest openness of the face in front of her, "...it means you're perception would be untainted by enchantment, uncorrupted by power... and the ability to see goodness and possibility in those around you, without wanting to take any small part of it for yourself...would seem a particularly valuable commodity to some people, you see."'

Emma struggled to keep her mind open as she shook her head at the assumption.

"That's not..."

"Tell me, why did you become a bailsbondwoman?"

The non-seqiteur threw the younger woman.

"It suited my...talents I guess." She shrugged.

"And once you'd caught these bail-dodging lowlifes and handed them back to the law, what did you hope would happen to them?"

"I don't know."

She considered for a moment.

" That they'd give some kind of justice to the wives and kids they ran out on, whether that was financial or a sense of security. And rehabilitation for the ones that were lost and sorry about what they'd done."

Regina nodded. "And would that be the standard answer, if I asked the same question to your colleagues."

"Hardly. They wanted most of them to burn." Snorted Emma.

"So you're sense of optimism and justice set you apart from everyone else."

Regina waited with baited breath for the response. At first there was silence but then Emma's shoulders slumped and all the air seemed to leave her body in one giant gasp.

"Oh."

It was all she could say. Her mind was so sluggish and weighted down that the blonde didn't have the energy to argue anymore.

And maybe. Just maybe, Regina was...right?

But then, if that were true without her optimism, what exactly did that leave her with?

Who did that make her now?

Emma peered upwards wearily into the darkness. "But...if you're right, who'd want to buy... that. And for what purpose?"

Regina swallowed hard.

"That, Miss Swan is the million dollar question. And one we need to find out, as soon as possible."

"Will you help me?"

It was asked in such a small, sorrowful voice that Regina couldn't help herself. She wrapped her arms around the woman in front of her and buried her face in the waves of gold hair. "Of course I will. We're in this together."

"Together then." Whispered Emma as she finally broke down and started sobbing uncontrollably.

TBC...


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Again, apologies for the delay. But you're probably used to it by now (inserts placating smiley face!) I've decided to cut away from the SQ action for this chapter but I hope you don't mind too much, I just wanna get into the bigger picture is all. As to those of you who reviewed, (esp regulars Baccan, LOCISVU, KooshGID, nerdfighter523 and Kween of Thorn [who had some excellent guesses on upcoming plot developments btw]) thanks thanks thanks so much and I'm really sorry if I didn't make it clear what Jefferson took in the earlier chapter- it's basically Emma's perception, how she sees the world in a positive way/how she sees the good in people (surprisingly hard to put into words when writing!) So I guess right now she's kind of going a bit dark swan on us **** Also does anyone remember those Create Your Own Adventure Books? Since I've got a mild case of writers block I would absolutely love it if readers wanted to review and put their thoughts on which character's behind the whole thing and what decision they want Jefferson to make at the end of this chapter. Interesting ideas may well be used but all are massively welcomed! This is a democracy, people! Anyways, onwards kind townsfolk...**

**TELLS CHAPTER SEVEN:**

Jefferson groaned.

Rolling over to assuage the ache in his back, his left leg rolled off the side of the soiled mattress and hit the floor with a slump. It was enough to jerk him out of his stupor and he grunted uncomfortably as he dragged himself into a sitting position.

The truth was the fight last night had taken more out of him than usual. He wasn't a fighter by nature, preferring the intricacies of plot and planning to physical violence when he could get away with it. Less mess that way. No skin on skin, no contamination. No disease. No magical infection. No human contact.

_Magnificent hats to complement a magnificent brain, _the Queen of Hearts had said of him with that irritating unreadable smile. Of course, that was just before she had waved her hand towards the executioner. As if the act had no more to do with her than an involuntary flick of her wrist. As if she hadn't been the one to give him that burning indelible scar right across his adam's apple. A mark with raised lips.

The scar that had ruined everything.

He grimaced as he stretched out his muscles, feeling the lactic acid liquefy in the morning light. That blonde tramp was a lot tougher than he thought, wiry and toned in places she really had no right to be. At least until he'd managed to straddle her and get his hands on what he really wanted. It'd been a strange sensation, drawing such instinctive magic out of her body. At that moment, part of him had felt like the biggest coward on earth violating a woman like that. But the other part, the one that looked around with repugnance at the self-righteous people in this town; the stronger selfish part that he'd been feeding for so very long didn't care. All it wanted was results. Quick easy results.

He hadn't expected the Mayor's interference though. That was more than a little surprising. Obviously he'd seen her backed against a wall and firing indiscriminately before, back in the beginnings of their acquaintanceship but the look he'd witnessed on her face last night was something new. Something that even horrified her a little. Something closer to…fear…but for what? The intrusion into such a well protected home? For her son?

For the blonde's well-being? Now if that were true it would be an interesting spin of the dice, no doubt. And there was no harm in filing away the information for a later date, he was sure of that.

Pulling himself to his feet, rolling his swollen ankles around one by one as he walked across the grubby barely-furnished room, Jefferson pulled at his night shirt. Then with mounting excitement he picked up his satchel and carefully drew out the pouch. His prize from last night.

It'd been a long time since he'd held such a rare or expensive thing in his hand. Which was quite a claim for a man known to own not only a self contained mansion complete with extensive grounds, but a sculptured maze, a fleet of top-of-the-line cars and multiple acres of land in and around the forest. What wasn't generally known by those idiots in town was that the grand owner of all these things slept every night in the sub-basement garage on a second hand mattress he'd found at the town dump. Dressed in second hand threads he'd begged the shop-keepers for. In fact apart from the occasional walk or shopping trip, he basically spent almost two thirds of his day in that room, staring at the damp splattered walls, slapping them sometimes with a palm to prove that his ears still worked. Away from noise and people; away from all the trinkets and photographs that stippled his fake existence in this dreary realm. Away from reminders of _her_. Of the first and last time he'd gotten close enough to hear her voice.

"_Hi," he said._

_The kohl eyed teenager just peered up at him with suspicion, a half smoked cigarette dangling from her lips. _

_He ignored the urge to grab the damn thing and flick it away into oblivion. Instead he perched on the furthest end of the bench, as far away from the girl as he could manage._

_It had taken him a few minutes to get up the courage to say anything else...until..._

"_Shouldn't you be in class right now?"_

"_Shouldn't you be out picking through other people's garbage?"_

_He flinched. Horribly, painfully aware of how he must look in his long discoloured dress coat and unlaced shoes two sizes too large._

_Jefferson forced himself to keep facing forward._

"_That's kinda mean don't you think?" _

_She snorted then. Gracelessly over to his left._

"_**That's **__mean?" She flicked her eyes over. "Mean... is having a mom who sneaks into the show-homes of her colleague and takes a dump in every single one of the cisterns on the morning before they open house..." _

"_I..."_

"_Mean? Mean is being told you can't participate in gym class because you forgot your kit and the school doesn't want the spare ones tainted by someone with alleged 'drug and health problems.'"_

_Her callous words were like a bullet to his chest._

"_Mean Mister is trying on a dress for stupid junior prom and being patted down by store security as you try to leave because they 'heard you like a good time with the real men in town."_

_He screwed his eyes up, as if that could stop the awful things falling from her mouth. _

"_I...Jesus I...I'm sorry."_

"_Is that why you're here?"_

_He didn't dare open them or answer._

"_Because you heard that too?"_

_Jefferson had to clamp his tongue down to keep from saying something that would almost certainly scare her off for good. But what should he say? What would a nobody, a stranger with no money and no advice say to someone in her position? Don't worry it'll get better?! That was bullshit and she'd see right through it. He could give her some money except for the fact that she'd want to know why a street bum would have such amounts of cash on him and not be living it up in The Rabbit Hole across time. He tried to focus his mind instead, searching for something appropriate to offer her..._

_Perhaps he could try telling her abou..._

_Suddenly he was pulled out of his though processes as he felt a strange weight settling itself on his lap._

"_Is that how you see yourself, Mister? As a real man?"_

_His eyes shot open to find her straddling him, a weird mixture of abhorrence and greed lighting up her young face._

"_I think you are."_

_Grace shuffled around a little for a second with a knowing grin, sending horrific sensations across his skin._

"_I can tell, you know." She leaned in closer, letting a soft fingertip run along the edge of his scar . "It's a gift of mine. I don't have much but I got that."_

_He shook his head but it didn't seem to faze her._

_She leaned down to kiss the deep edge of the mark "I don't mind scars and stuff. I can prove it to you, if you want...somewhere a little more private..."_

_He couldn't take it anymore; it felt as if his whole chest was about to crack wide open with grief. Jefferson pushed her backwards. Standing up, he blinked uncertainly at the patch of ground they were standing in, unwilling to look her in the eye._

"_No...I mean, please...I appreciate the compliment and...and..." He glanced up, hoping she could see sincerity at least in his face. "...I have no doubt that your talents are... multiple and astounding. You have so much more than..." he waved a hand between them attempting to keep the grimace off his face, "this to offer the world, you have to know that."_

_She took a step backward, suspicion again fizzing off her._

_And though it cut him to the quick to do it, he straightened his spine and pulled his coat around him as he turned to go._

"_One day you'll realise what those talents are. And the idiots that live in this goddamn town won't know what hit them."_

_He gave her a nod._

"_Just remember that. Won't you?"_

_He turned away and blocked out the sounds behind him as best he could. _

_Walking away from the only family he'd ever known._

Her name was Grace.

She was the only thing that had ever mattered to him. The only reason he even bothered to keep existing in this small-town Freudian nightmare.

At least she had been.

Except now, there was something different. He had a new reason to fuel him. A new mission to distract himself with. Orders from on high- the kind that you couldn't really refuse.

Cradling the pouch of magic against his chest where it warmed his skin, Jefferson readied himself quickly, opening his shipman's trunk and pulling out his old outfit from Wonderland. The trousers were a little tight these days, the waistband tatty and wearing away, but the velvet top hat and tails were immaculate as he shrugged them on. He wasn't sure why exactly but for some reason he had the urge to look his best today.

Probably because for the first time in years he was going to have an audience.

And he was inexplicably looking forward to the change in circumstance.

Peering at himself in the full length mirror, the Hatter wondered for a moment how the evil queen (as she once was) had managed to primp and preen herself with that lovesick hovering henchman forever in her eyeline. But the thought was gone in a second. And then he brought his chin up, internally forcing the familiar tide of madness under his skin to recede for at least a small while.

The trick was short lived at best but it would have to do today.

It had to.

Because the time had come. Striding out of the miserable shuttered room, Jefferson walked down the corridor, ignoring the series of locked doors along the way. Turning right then right again after a few metres, he kept his pace up by humming the bars to an old Kinks tune he'd heard on a car radio. The music of this dreadful world the Queen had created left him in despair most of the time, but there was something alien and unearthly about Autumn Almanac, one of the bands lesser known tracks that crawled inside his brain and curled up there. So he went with the feeling and whistled along to the melody as he jumped between shadows in another hallway.

He shifted the pouch from his left hand to his right as he slipped through an old archway and took the chipped steps downwards into the underground portion of the building. It'd been modelled after the catacombs in Paris according to the research he'd done a few years ago, not as an ossuary, not as a place to collect the remains and bones of great men but to reuse the old stone mine tunnels that lay dormant. To re-purpose the series of mortared stone passageways that twisted and turned underneath the city boundaries. And the idea of giving a new rationale to the old forgotten corridors had hit a nerve with him when he'd moved into the place. Now he felt like their watcher, their guardian angel- duty bound to use the labyrinth as much as he could.

Well, the last few days had hopefully made the old pebbledash walls happier than they had been in a long time.

Ducking his head to avoid a low hanging lantern, Jefferson finally rounded a corner and stopped outside an old battered hardwood door. He had to balance the precious pouch under his chin as he searched all his pockets for the appropriate key but soon enough he found it and turned it in the oversized padlock, being careful to recant the words of an ancient unsealing spell under his breath as he did so.

He almost held his breath as the door began to swing open.

At first all his eyes could see in the room was darkness and musty air fat with dust particles. But then as his pupils adjusted to the gloom, he made out the prize he had left in there less than twenty four hours ago. Or should he say, prizes.

For there in the middle of the old granite workroom were three chairs lined up in a row; each with a sleeping person bound tightly to them with hemp ropes that curled neatly around their skin. The first, closest to the tiny lamp on the wall was a young girl, her brown hair messy and mussed up from where the sack had been previously pulled off her head. He stared at his daughter for a few precious seconds and gave a small unconscious smile at the flickering eyes behind their lids.

Then he moved his gaze onto the second chair; onto the lank haired individual slumped across it. This person was the reason that he'd had to resort to using the archaic incantation on the outside of the door earlier, his innate skill with magic sure to shatter his bonds sooner or later. Jefferson had endured a tediously difficult situation attempting to kidnap the man known as Mr Gold. And it was only with the help of his benefactor, with a sleeping draught combined at sundown with the sap of the Maundola flower (that didn't even grow in this realm) that he had managed to sidestep the many invocations and charms in the man's pawn shop and knock him unconscious with one of his own tawdry trinkets. The man was powerful but as it turned out predictable too. Once distracted with a phone call about his young friend Henry, Jefferson had utilised the man's almost unshakeable beliefs in his own protections to great effect. In fact, once they were broken and the magician became aware of it, a lot of the fight seemed to go out of him. Of course he'd swung out with the maudlin cane of his but physical defence was clearly not one of his talents and he was felled almost a moment later when the knight's helmet had smashed into the back of his head.

Strangely enough, as he stood there, the memory of the event was almost as oddly satisfying as the incident itself.

But none of that compared to the effort it had taken to get the third individual here into Jefferson's home. He had gone through hell for this one, although looking at her, you wouldn't have known it. Sure she was tall and obviously imposing despite her drugged state but with her long blonde hair and thin tapered fingers she really looked more like a Hollywood housewife than a grand witch capable of turning herself into a dark curse selling, fire breathing monstrosity. Come to think of it, had she known what was to come, that irritating Sheriff would probably have changed her mind about vanquishing the woman a few months ago. The end result of that encounter reducing the witch to human form. Human form but not human limits as it turned out. And so he'd had to plan everything in her capture down to the smallest detail. Sneaking the ground up mushroom into her bottle of Merlot had been easy enough but if he'd thought dealing with a witch that was two inches tall would be a walk in the park he was wrong. She'd kept her wand under her shrunken robes and played an outlandish version of hide and seek with him, sending painful disease-ridden curses flying at his feet. He could barely walk by the time he'd gotten the upper hand what with the new patches of pox and fungus she'd hit him with. And even when he'd grabbed her as she'd tried to slip through the floorboards of her grandiose chamber, she'd blown some kind of blasted powder right into his mouth swelling his tongue to the size of an apple for hours. He'd hardly been able to breathe let alone speak until the morning came. And just for that, he'd given her an extra shove when he'd restored her to her original size and dumped her down here. The bitch deserved more than that though, so she should really count herself lucky, he thought acidly.

And so here the three of them sat, their differing levels of power and influence lost in the simplicity of sleep, each one completely unaware of their surroundings.

He almost envied them that. No. He did envy it.

Because now he had them here, he was truth be told, at a complete loss as to what to do.

When he'd been recruited for this twisted game, he'd been so clear as to what had to be done. The instructions had been unambiguous, the threats if he failed to deliver terrifying in their clarity. And he believed them. He knew what his ally was capable of, had seen it first hand. It was undeniable.

But...

But then he'd gotten to thinking about what he could do with the gift he was about to steal away in the night. Who he could help. How he could change not only his own wretched life but those of the puissants who lived in Storybrooke. The ones with disgust in their eyes. The ones who'd taken every chance to humiliate and degrade him.

The ones with the kind of power they in no way deserved.

That was how he had ended up here, with three captives in his subterranean world rather than the one he'd been ordered to collect. With the choice eyeballing him baldly in the face.

Taunting him. Calling him an indecisive coward.

_A wavering yellow-bellied snake._

Peering at the three people in front of him, Jefferson felt the madness building again behind his eyes and tried desperately to force it back just until he'd made his decision. He just needed a minute to work things out.

Just a minute. To think them through.

Twitching slightly, the Mad Hatter screwed up his nose as a million avenues of thought opened up before him. Each with their own pros and cons. Each with the most wonderful and devastating of consequences. Life with a family. Death to all enemies. Resurrection.

Darkness.

And then...

Suddenly something intangible just clicked into place. Just like that.

The decision was made.

And he straightened his shoulders as he walked forward, opening the pouch as he did so...

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I know it's getting repetitive but a big sorry again for the delay in posting. I've slightly modified the structure of this chapter, so apologies if it's confusing at all but it felt like the right thing to do chronology-wise. I'm still offering up the chance for readers to offer their thoughts, ideas and guesses for where the story's going, so please please review if you have any of those, they make me happy and happiness leads to quicker writing ****. Thanks to all reviewers, followers aswell. So...enjoy! **

**TELLS: Chapter 8**

The bell above them gave a metallic ding as Regina pushed the door open.

Emma couldn't help huddling into her jacket as she heard it.

Swallowing hard, she stopped.

"Regina, are you sure this is a good id.."

"EMMA!"

Before she could even complete the sentence the blonde heard her name being yelled loudly across the room. In the darkness all around, it seemed to echo and reverberate like some kind of wild bird, although her logical mind told her that there were really no surfaces for it to physically rebound off. That it was nothing more than an illusion. Nothing more than the spinning of a room when a heavy night had involved more tequila than it probably should have.

_One breath at a time Em..._

Despite bracing herself for what she knew was coming, it still knocked the air out of her lungs when Henry launched himself at her, pushing everyone out of the way before enveloping her in an ecstatic bear hug.

"Emma!" he squealed happily.

"Kid!"

She wrapped her arms around him instantly and held on.

Breathed him in.

Struggling for a second to control her breathing, Emma did her best to act as normal as she could and quickly pasted a smile on her face; tilting her head from side to side to make sure that all and any of the other customers at Granny's could see her usual hassle-free demeanour.

As glad as she was to see her son though, and she _was_; glad to feel his small fingers wrapped around her, grounding her with the sheer dependability of his affection, it was much more difficult to pretend everything was fine than she could ever have imagined. Even harder to remember all the instinctive little motions and tics she fell into without thinking. Without even being conscious of it.

_Guess it's time for a little improv, _she thought apprehensively.

Sloping her head down she pulled her right hand away from him and feeling the edges of Henry's mussed up hair, let it ruffle through a few strands.

"Hey!" he groused.

Pushing her luck, Emma grinned and slid her hand down his fringe and right down across his face, unaware that Regina's worried face had broken into a small smile at the gesture.

"Ah, get off!"

She felt Henry pull away then and didn't have to use much imagination to picture him quickly brushing his hair back into its normal parting.

"God, you're so embarrassing."

The ridiculousness of his obvious irritation bolstered her though. Made her feel a little more at ease. Like maybe she could really get away with this.

"Regina?"

It was barely more than a whisper but she suddenly felt a hand ghosting on her back.

"Miss Swan?"

"Who else is here?"

Regina did a quick tally.

"Ruby is behind the counter, there's no sign of Granny, although at a guess I'd say she's on the premises somewhere." She scanned again. "Leroy seems to have booked a booth by the window for an inebriated party of one. And Miss Blanchard is just...well she's...she's ah..."

"What?!" hissed the blonde.

"...'s coming over here full tilt...Good afternoon Miss Blanchard."

Emma straightened up and smiled as she felt the comforting hand recede behind her.

"Mary Margaret!"

The pixie-haired brunette's face lit up as she reached the Sheriff. Although there was no disguising the underlying look of consternation when she saw how close her friend was standing to the Mayor.

"Where were you last night Emma, you didn't come home and you didn't call?"

_Crap! _

Emma mentally kicked herself for not even thinking about that before now.

Grimacing, she put her hands up.

"Oh, geez sorry. I worked the late shift at the station- there was talk of a possible prowler at the far end of town so I had to go check it out. By the time I finished up it seemed like the less intrusive option to just bunk up in the cells for the night."

_Has a kernel of truth in it at least, _she thought before fretfully waiting for a response. Trying everything in her power not to start messing around with the keys in her jeans pocket. For some reason her hands felt abnormally large.

For a second there was just silence stretching out in front of her. An endless highway.

"Right, of course."

Emma practically sagged with relief.

"Well there's no maid service but the coffee is outstanding."

Focusing on the height at which she hoped her friend's face might be, Emma tried to look contrite which wasn't difficult, since she really did feel bad about unnecessarily worrying her friend.

The young dark haired woman smiled in response, a little sadly.

"Graham used to do that sometimes, you know."

And Emma's chest tightened instinctively.

"I…Did he?"

"Sure. He'd swing by the school late afternoon as part of his security checks and there were some occasions where he staggered past the class window with a face full of wild stubble and a carton of iced coffee in his hand. Eventually the kids would start giggling every-time he came round. Giving him silly nicknames like Constable Casual. Or Detective Doesn't Shave."

"No. WPC Wild-Man!" threw in Henry. "That was mine! Which was the best one. Obviously. It's got alliteration _and_ an acronym."

Regina, who had been standing a little off to the side, almost broke a smile.

"Obviously. You get extra credits for both of those." Nodded his teacher seriously.

"Credits that might… buy me a pass from gym class?"

"Credits that might at _most_ might buy you an extra helping of fries with your dinner."

"I believe the city council decommissioned those particular credits a long time ago, Miss Blanchard," said the mayor with a frown.

Henry booed quietly at his mother's austerity then which earned him a hard stare from both women.

"We do still run the accreditation scheme that offers one extra chore for every example of disrespectful behaviour, if that helps at all."

Henry looked at his mother sheepishly as he realised he'd actually spoken out loud and proceeded to scrape his foot across the floor tiles. "Sorry, Mom."

The brunette nodded once. "Apology accepted Henry."

"If I have a salad though, can I get a dessert? That's a fair deal, right?"

"I didn't realise I was in a negotiation."  
"No-one realises until they're actually in one. That's why they're so much fun!"

A flurry of thoughts flew through Emma's brain as she listened to the light hearted banter that she'd taken for granted so many times before. A part of her revelled in it. Drawn to the comfortable, familial intimacy that she'd only ever seen in a bunch of crappy sitcoms on cable. Losing herself in its embrace. But another part... A nauseous, uncertain part that she'd become more and more aware of since last night, was starting to get agitated by the cosy scene. Not just agitated. Claustrophobic and twitchy. As if she could feel all of the people in front of her clamping down on her skin, stopping her from going anywhere else. Somewhere she could breathe cold, clean air.

"Emma?"

The blonde barely heard Mary Margaret's enquiry.

"Huh?"

"You see that, right? We all know ...Graham was a good man. A _great_ Sheriff. You share a lot of qualities with him Emma." Mary Margaret reached forward suddenly and before Regina could do anything to warn her, gently grabbed Emma's wrist.

"He would have been so proud of you right now. We all are. I know this whole change of lifestyle might have come as a bit of a shock but somehow you seem to just…fit this place. It's like you were meant to be here."

If the schoolteacher was aware of Regina's body tensing in response to the direction that the conversation was going in, she did a good job of maintaining a poker face. Instead she moved another step closer to her friend.

"Totally seconded!" said Henry coming up and taking Emma's free hand. "As long as no-one touches my hair ever again."

"You're joining us for some food, right?"

Emma hesitated, a keen awareness of her own mood holding her back from answering her son's question.

It was lucky really that the pair of them, Henry and Mary Margaret, didn't really give the Sheriff a chance to argue as she was pulled limply through the middle of the café and dragged into the spare booth by the wall.

Her heart was pounding though as she was dragged down onto the leather bench, spurred on by a bizarre mixture of emotions; appreciation for her new found home, guilt at the deception she was already knee deep in and... something else.

"It's all right Miss Swan."

Emma swallowed at the voice that appeared from her left, one kept so low that no-one else could make it out.

"I don't think it is Regina."

There was a chasm of a pause before she felt the cold tang of cutlery being slid gently under her palms. "I don't think they'd be surprised if you chose to eat with your hands but just in case…"

Emma grinned a little then. "Oh don't worry Your Majesty... where we're going we don't need forks."

Slamming her hand on the table, she pushed her apprehensiveness to the back of her mind and looked towards the counter. "Ruby, one of your biggest, greasiest burgers if you please."

ONE HOUR EARLIER:

"Regina, I can't do this…"

The mayor tried to ignore the plaintive tone running through the blonde's voice and took a deep breath as she slipped an arm around Emma's back. Not holding it exactly but resting there, providing a barrier between her skin and the world. A lucky charm; if such a childish thing had ever existed in this world.

"You'll be all right."

She felt Emma turn her head to stare at her and watched forlornly as the unseeing green eyes roved across her face. Searching for any kind of movement, some spark of light as they flicked onwards, without a hope in hell of finding whatever it was she was trying to cling to.

"Miss Swan?" she asked gently.

Emma lowered her chin. "I can't tell if you're lying or not."

Regina's chest clenched in response. Not to the admittance although it was heartbreaking in its hopelessness but more to the unspoken part of that sentence. The one that stated that _that_ was the only gift the blonde had ever had that set her apart.

That made her special.

_If only she knew, _thought the fallen Queen.

She was well aware at that moment that once upon a time, not so long ago she would have rejoiced in the younger woman's loss, calling it a victory. Calling it nothing less than a judgement from on high. But watching the blonde struggling to deal with her current defeat, to cope with the few things she'd possessed that had been taken so casually from her….

It left the Mayor feeling helpless. As if she were flailing around in the dark like a commoner. The sensation was new and spectacularly unappealing.

So she decided to stop thinking for the moment and improvise.

Lifting her right hand she softly ran her fingertips along Emma's cheekbone, letting them absorb the soft gasp the move elicited. Although she knew that this was the moment for eloquence, some kind of motivational speech, she also knew that she had nothing that articulate to offer right now. A consolatory smile wasn't going to be any use either.

Which really only left….

This.

Curling fingers to cup the blonde's face, Regina stilled her hand.

"Courageous."

Regina flinched a little at her own awkwardness but forced herself to relax.

"Infuriating."  
"Compassionate."

"Reckless. Valiant. Empathetic."

_All the things you'll never be, _her demons whispered but she waved them away.

"Slovenly."

Emma frowned at that one and Regina gave a small smile, moving her fingers an inch lower so that they rested on the blonde's jaw.

"Undaunted."

"Regina…."

The brunette silenced Emma, with a brief tap to her face.

"Impolite."

The blonde's mouth moved a millimetre.

"Intrepid."

"Regina..."

"Receptive?" she said quietly. Hopefully.

Emma simply blinked. Then parted her lips with a sigh.

"Is this really the time for scrabble?"

Regina's smile dropped.

"Is this really the time for being obtuse Miss Swan?"

Emma scowled at the use of her moniker. One of the things that had irritated her more than anything else when she'd first met Henry's mother.

"Miss Swan…_Emma_...You can do this."

The words came out easier than she would have thought and buoyed by the feeling Regina leaned in a little.

"I know because you have at its most base level, ignored every piece of advice I've given you, since you came to Storybrooke. Until today."

Emma opened her mouth again as if to offer some kind of defence but Regina cut her off, "And I understand why. It's been more than a lifetime since I spoke a single word without an underlying agenda of some sort and you saw that the second we met. You saw my greed and my…" she hesitated momentarily, her face hot "...My... hatred. And you challenged it. That doesn't make any of our actions right and it certainly doesn't make them fair but it's the truth. You saw through me and sight or not, no-one can take something that innate away from you. Not even with magic."

Emma swallowed painfully. "Please."

Attempting to hold back the tears, she breathed out. "Please... can we not just stay here and…."

"No we can't! You need to pull yourself together and realise what you still have. We're going to fix this."

_Liar, _her own demons laughed.

"I can't."

"You can't what, dear?"

The broken tone of her voice sent shivers through the other woman.

"I…I can't do this. I can't be…like _this_, for the rest of my life. It's not who I am. I can't be weak and pathetic, I'm supposed to be the great and powerful White Knight for Christ's sake!" Breathing hard, the blonde, screwed up her face miserably. "Not that I made much good on it last night. Taken out by one messed up guy with no weapons to speak of."

The Mayor was taken aback for a second. But she wasn't going to give up without a fight. Straightening her posture, she forced herself to calm her growing irritation.

"Emma, we are going to fix it so that everything goes back to normal but until we figure out how, you seem to need a lesson in being grateful for what you have."

Regina blew out the hot air in her mouth as her anger began to surface more fully.

"I may have been underhand and sly Sheriff…but you! You wandered into this town, _my_ town, with all its barriers and charms as if it were the simplest thing in the world. But even that wasn't enough was it? You had to stick your big nose into everyone's life, throw in your two cents at every opportunity. Talking about things that were none of your concern. And the words. All of those cheap slurs and stupid challenges that just fall out of your mouth like…like insects off cattle! Without thought. And without any concept of who might be listening. You came along with your lackadaisical rules and your bullish attitude and at no point in our little dance did you ever give the impression that you were anything less than fearless."

"Maybe it was a front..." said Emma quietly.

"Maybe. I _highly_ doubt it. Perhaps you've heard of this particular expression though. We are what we pretend so be careful who you pretend to be."

"Meaning?"

Regina stood up then and grabbed the blonde's arm, dragging her up to full height. "Meaning, Miss Swan, get your coat. Because if you can't do something, pretend to do until you can."

Emma considered that for a second.

Felt the roiling waves of doubt and pessimism recede if only for a while at the naked fire in the other woman's voice.

Then she reached down to grasp her jacket.

"I don't want to worry you Henry, but I think I might be pregnant with a food baby..."

"Miss Swan!"

Emma giggled at Regina's disapproval as she threw her napkin on the plate.

"Cool! Is it a brother or a sister?"

Emma leaned back, patting her stomach. "I don't know kid, but I think they're gonna be real big. So no arm-wrestling when they're older, ok? "

"Henry, go wash your face, there's spaghetti sauce all over it."

Henry grimaced at his mother but pushed his chair back and wandered away from the table. Taking the opportunity, Regina leaned over and glared at the blonde.

"That is completely inappropriate, Sheriff."

"Oh relax would you?!" Laughed Emma. "This is what you wanted, isn't it? A normal dinner for everyone. Well welcome to my world."  
"Your world is tacky and improper." Grumbled the brunette.

"And yours is perfectly manicured and magnificently tedious."

Regina's brown eyes flashed with ire at the casual way the blonde had thrown that out. Peering over at Mary Margaret who seemed to be sinking embarrassedly into her chair, she couldn't help curling her hand into a fist.

"You are skating on thin ice, Miss Swan."

Enjoying the moment a little too much, Emma raised a single eyebrow.

"You didn't tell me you had the power to conjure a mild winter just so I'd fall in and drown. I think you've been holding out on us!"

Regina growled under her breath although she was keenly aware of the brief panic that erupted at the Sheriff's innocent mention of conjuration. She was also equally conscious of the fact that she had a reputation to maintain though. So she smoothed her hair back and settled her facial features into a mask of indifference.

"Do you know sometimes I don't know why I bother stooping to your..."

Just then the bell over the front door clanged again and both Regina and Mary Margaret looked over to see who had come in. The school teacher's face remained unconcerned as she stared over at the three new dining guests. But the Mayor's was a different matter. Taking in the fact that the young innocuous-looking girl was hand in hand with the town's antique shop owner would have been enough to catch her attention. But the addition of her old magical comrade, the gregarious blonde witch who appeared to be sharing a private joke with the other two, caused her suspicion levels to sky rocket.

Staring at them as they merrily seated themselves at one of the tables in the front window, Regina flicked her eyes briefly over to Emma before forcing herself to turn her back to the diner's newest patrons, the feeling of anxiety growing ever steadily in her stomach.

She didn't know exactly what was going on, but she had the strongest sense that nothing good would come of it.

"So we're having dessert, right?"

Henry smiled hopefully at the three women at the table, as he slid himself into the seat.

But all Regina could think about was how everything she had to lose was sitting right there in front of her. In plain view.

TBC...


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: I know, I know, I haven't updated in ages for which I offer my most humble apologies. It was down to a combination of busy-ness and writer's block so thanks very much for sticking with me while I sorted (some of) that out. Ooh and multiplicitous thanks for all the comments/guesses that have been posted- some interesting ones there for sure. Blue Fairy and Belle are the frontrunners for sure, in the evil villains stakes which makes me smile at how twisted some of you are. It's awesome. I'm still umming and aaahing over the endgame scenario so all ideas are welcomed! Anyways I'm hoping to post the next chapter much quicker than this one, so on we go.**

**Enjoy if it pleases you… **

**TELLS: CHAPTER NINE**

_There it was again. Dancing just out of her reach… or at least it seemed that way._

_ Vile and seductive. _

_She didn't know what other words to use to describe the way it tempted her to turn her head and catch a real glimpse of its liquid body as the thing writhed around. Words were never her strong suit but those two seemed weirdly appropriate_

_ The trouble was that she couldn't turn her head. _They'd_ notice; she knew they would. _

_ Even in the midst of their constant needling and mini verbal victories across the table top, they'd pick up on the movement. Or at least Regina would for sure._

_ With that bizarre preternatural awareness she seemed to have of everything around her. _

_ So Emma forced herself to be still. To curve her spine a little the way she usually did, to pick up the glass in front of the kid without giving away her own fumbling, childish fingers._

_ To be a normal person._

_ Good luck with that, _they sang_. _

"So….since we both know I'm not allowed a dog…"

Henry snuck a quick glance over at his mother, as she stared right back with an unflappable face. Grumping a little, he turned back to Mary Margaret.

"…and hypothetical dogs technically can't chew up homework, what are we looking at in terms of possible reasons for not handing in the assignment tomorrow?"

Regina looked askance. "Henry!"  
"What? I'm asking for a friend!?"

At the innocent look crossing his face, Mary Margaret tried to stifle her own growing grin but judging from the cool gaze focused on her, apparently wasn't as successful as she might have hoped.

"Do I take it from your barely disguised smirk that you have no problem encouraging these inappropriate questions Miss Blanchard?"

The younger brunette swallowed. "I would never encourage anything even remotely associated with indolence, Madame Mayor, as I'm _sure_ you're aware. My classes are the most strongly structured in the school."

"Some would argue that structure only gets you so far in this world."

"Some would argue that structure is the backbone of humanity."

At that the mayor practically fell off her chair. "Backbone?! _Really_ Miss Blanchard, you're going to use the one thing you've lacked your entire existence as the killing blow?"

_The urge to shoot her arm out and grab at the dripping black coating assaulted her again but Emma fought it, trying desperately to hold onto the loosening threads of conversation. Trying not to lose the feeling of Regina's fingers resting on hers; skin on skin, grounding her to reality…_

_ What was that they were talking about… backbone?_

"I don't know what you're insinuating Madame Mayor."

"Oh you don't? I'm not one to gossip but I heard from a very reliable source that when you first joined Storybrooke Prep, you believed a vertebrae was some kind of Russian soup."

"I…That's….."Stuttering in absolute outrage, the smaller brunette's eyebrows knitted together as she blew acrid air from her lungs.

"Well, perhaps you should learn not to listen to every little whisper in your ear."

"What can I say? I have a well informed circle of friends."

"I'm not entirely sure you can call it a circle if it only has one other person in it."

Regina's brown eyes flared dangerously. And Mary Margaret leaned forward as she smelled blood.

"I'm not sure you and Sydney Glass even qualify as a line, actually."

Indignation flashed across the older brunette's face and she straightened herself in her chair. "You know what Miss Blanchard; you had better learn to wipe that supercilious smile off your perky little face."

"Mom, come on!…"

Slumping further down in his seat, Henry folded his arms as he watched the two women at the table scowl at each other, jaws locked tightly in place. He might have been young but he knew the preliminaries of a showdown when he saw it, and he also knew better than to interrupt either of them when they were building up into full flow. Truth be told he'd never been able to work out exactly what it was that drove his mom and his teacher to get into these stupid fights but he knew all too well that they never ended happily for anyone involved.

Sometimes it made his head hurt just thinking about it.

And in fact, none of his current consternation was lost on Regina either. Even in the midst of her anger she was aware of her son's newly deflated attitude. In the same way that she was aware of her own brief curiosity at Emma's absence in the debate… since usually she was the first person to jump into the role of peacemaker and turn everyone's attention to something a little less incendiary. Like what kind of pie to order. Or which comic book villain would win in a cosmic fistfight. Or in fact anything equally ridiculous and inane.

Any other day, she might have taken a moment to consider the implications of her behaviour in such a public venue but right now she was barely holding it together; worn out from lack of sleep. Exhausted by the worry and panic that had been keeping her awake until this point. And the real problem was that she was just having too much fun. The growling bilious wave inside her stomach that swelled every-time she scored a blow against the meek and mild Mary Margaret was surging unstoppably under her ribs. So she leaned forward, taking her hand from off the Sheriff's for a moment and pointed it at the schoolteacher.

_You see, they all leave you in the end, _the voices in Emma's head crowed with glee.

In that second it took all her energy not to lay her head down on the table.

"One of these days, Miss Blanchard, you are going to have to learn your place in this town and let me tell you right now, it's …"

Suddenly the brunette was cut off by a flickering of the lights in the diner and everything was instantly shrouded in darkness before they miraculously came back to life.

And went out. Then on again.

Their argument forgotten for a moment, both women turned their attention to the front of the small rustic café to see a small figure in a pale dress flicking the main light switch back and forth with some gusto.

Satisfied she now had everyone's full attention solely on her; Grace flipped the lights back onto continuous beam and watched with obvious excitement as her suited companion rapped his cutlery on the table a few times just to make sure there were no other distractions.

"Miss Lucas? Everyone, if I may?"

Every person in the diner stopped what they were doing at the sound of Mr Gold's voice. Usually quietly spoken and brimming with what could only be described as insidious malcontent, the man seemed unnatural as he stood there taking it all in. In fact he was positively grinning, his arms thrown wide in a friendly theatrical gesture.

From behind the counter Ruby looked over as if she'd wandered into some kind of gypsy side-show.

"Now I know that I am not the kind of man you would look to for favours or gifts…I know some of you have found me to be cold-hearted. Ruthless. Callous even…"

Of course she hadn't been aware of the light show but Emma listened intently to the speech; trying her best to block out the murmurs under her skin whilst attempting to understand what was going on with the usually morose magician. It was a strange juggling act to try and conquer and at the surreal joyous tone in Gold's voice, she motioned with her hand as if to share something with the mayor but found a hand clamped down over her mouth before she could even blink. A warning signal from Regina. To see how this played out or to keep the attention away from their little get-together, Emma wasn't entirely sure. She complied anyway though, if a little begrudgingly.

"…But since this is such a beautiful evening, and the moon and stars are high in the sky I…" He turned then with a look of apology, "That is _we…_would very much like to buy everyone in here a drink."

"No!" Maleficent stood then and clapped him on the shoulder. "Not just a drink. Drinks and dinner."

"For everyone!" said Grace. "Everyone deserves it."

Gold smiled again. "You heard the ladies, Miss Lucas. The full works for everyone in here. On us."

If the act of a jaw dropping had an accompanying sound there would have been a series of clicks and clops as everyone in the diner stared dumbly at the beaming newcomers.

The subsequent silence was almost thick; plump with a combination of disbelief and suspicion. At least for two minutes or more. Regina simply watched as Ruby threw her hands open at Granny behind the counter as she contemplated the logistics of the situation in front of them even though no-one had moved a muscle.

It was as if everyone was holding their breath. Waiting for someone to make the first move. Waiting and hoping.

Hoping and waiting.

Right up until Grumpy dragged his head up from his table-top and with nary a glance Gold, stuck a bristled hand in the air.

"Pitcher of ale. Beef and onion pie, crust on, with a side of creamed potatoes and as many vegetables as you can throw at a small child."

Regina shot him an irritable glance but before she could intervene, there was another order from the far corner of the room.

"Chicken Chasseur, no rice, please."

She recognised the voice of one of the carpenters from the hardware store.

And that's when the floodgates opened.

"Sea Bass!"

"Vegetable lasagne!"

"Screw the food, what's the monetary equivalent in Merlot?!"

"Pound cake! Nothing else."

They just seem to keep coming.

"French onion soup."

"Pumpkin risotto!"

"That's not even on the menu, Larry!" Ruby shouted above the throng.

"Who cares, I want me some pumpkin!"

_Shout something, whispered the voices in her head. Join in their anarchy; no-one would judge you. _

"Burgers on this table; hold the gherkins!"

"Bread."

"Which kind?" asked Granny exasperatedly.

"Every kind!"

_The insatiable screeching pushed in around Emma as she breathed hard in and out, focusing all her attention on the sound of her own exhalations rather than the frightening cacophony of sounds. _

But the shouts and choruses kept vaulting into the air, some of them indistinguishable as words until the whole place seemed like little more than a mediaeval tavern; a classless inn filled with excited voices clambering and elbowing each other under the strip lights.

"Pastries!"

"Whipped cream as well!"

_What the hell is this?! _

Regina could only take in the scene with complete incredulity. These people, these fools who'd spent their lives being taunted and terrified by the antiques seller in all his many guises were practically falling over the feet to get over there and shake the man's hand. Their mouths were already watering at the sounds of sizzling meat and pasta, the creases in their clothing making their greed obvious, as if it hadn't been before. Even Ruby and the usually level headed Granny were sprinting between the kitchen and the dining area, as if their lives depended on it, trying to keep some kind of order in the verbal chaos although the task seemed just about as thankless.

"What's freaking happening? Anyone?" said Emma at last, to the people at her table. Mary Margaret was just watching open mouthed, shaking her head, which was of absolutely no use to the blonde. Henry, for his part seemed to be finding the whole thing just about the most awesome sight he'd ever seen, and his wide brown eyes constantly scanned the sea of people in front of them, flicking back and forth between the people moving about.

"That is an excellent question, Miss Swan," said Regina mesmerised by the sea of grinning faces and erupting handshakes, although she was conscious enough to allow her fingertips to brush lightly across the blonde's arm next to her.

_Too little too late, they laughed._

The doorbell clanged as a couple of people entered the diner and joined the fray. A second later, off it went again as a small group of youths barged their way in, skateboards in hand, a patchy attempt at stubble giving them some unnecessary confidence.

_The word must be spreading, _Regina mused anxiously.

That was an understatement though. As she looked on, the small crowd of diners began to swell and bulge with new members, as if some kind of siren had been sounded in the streets of Storybrooke. A siren linked inexorably with the knell of the diner's smaller bell. People were coming in constantly now. More of a flow. A rivulet of human ravenousness with townsfolk clutching things tightly in their fists. Plates. Cutlery. One of the dwarfs had what looked like a hand carved pen knife dangerously sticking out from between his knuckles but none of the other people bustling and jostling him seemed to mind it sticking into them as they pushed their way inside.

Joining more and more of them. Endless streams of people now, forcing their way in twos and threes through the doorway. Smiling and linking arms as they went.

The three instigators were already obscured from Regina's view by the sheer number of people crammed into the small room which ratcheted up her anxiety levels another few notches, although she could tell their rough location due to the loud circle of cheers ringing out towards the window. The eye of the storm so to speak.

It was at this point that someone unceremoniously slammed back into her chair with an audible oomph. Growling under her breath, the Mayor pushed them away with as much strength as she could muster, affronted by the sheer cheek of the action. And the worst part was that the portly man didn't even offer an apology, he simply pressed back into the mass of bodies, trying to worm his way through to the groaning serving counter.

In all the vexation and confusion there was one thing that the former evil Queen _had_ missed though. The man had also slammed into Emma's back at the same time as he had hit Regina, pushing all the air out of her lungs. At any other time, the incident wouldn't have been more than an irritation at best and she would have swung round in the chair and more than likely socked the man in his astonished jowled face. But this time she had no warning and the liquid darkness clung to her as she was pushed forward into it. The swirling miasma in front of her eyes had been coalescing into more and more distinct figures since she had finished her food, the action of holding the burger in her hands somehow acting as a cheap sensory distraction if nothing else. Keeping the darkness at bay. For a while.

And now the oily whispers had returned full force.

_Now you see them for who they really are; idiots with stupid, cheap desires._

Emma screwed her eyes shut, hating the harsh words ringing in her ears.

_Look at them all- Satisfied with a ten dollar meal ticket. Regardless of who's behind it._

_And what about Ruby and Granny- two misfits apparently now satisfied with a couple of zeros on a cheque._

She tried not to whimper at the dripping venom that wouldn't go away no matter how hard she wished it.

_Even Regina. _

She held her breath, unwilling to listen to the attack that she knew was coming and reciting the words in her mind as a defensive mantra.

_**Please. Not Her. Leave Her Be.**_

_The Great and Powerful Evil Queen satisfied with a pointless slanging match that'll have no end._

_How low her expectations have fallen that a few words will put out such a fire._

"More of everything, kind ladies!" came the call from somewhere in the darkness, although whether it was actually Mr Gold or one of his growing number of acolytes Emma couldn't be sure.

She was sure of one thing though- she couldn't take it anymore. The multitude of voices around her was making her feel nauseous and it only grew with the poisonous taunts ricocheting inside her own head. She wasn't sure if she was going to pass out or just lose her mind the way she was being jostled and bumped by elbows and thighs as the townsfolk poured themselves into the diner. Either option seemed like a blissful reprieve from the unending noisy, tactile, threatening chaos around her and she knew she had to do something.

Had to do something right now.

"Henry, sit back in your seat right now," yelled Regina, in a most unmayoral manner as her son got to his feet.

"But Mom…it's free food!" he whined.

"What have I told you before? Nothing in life comes for free."

"That sucks if it's true."

"Yes well…there are a lot of instances where it turns out that the truth isn't that grand... " Regina flinched mid-flow someone jerked her chair leg accidentally.

"My God; do you mind?!"

"Sorry darling, my mistake."

Brown eyes lit up with ire as she surveyed the drunken lout barely holding himself up in his ratty tweed jacket and she pulled herself up to her full height, towering over him by at least two inches.

"If you call me that again, you _truly_ will be sorry. In a hospital gown. With multiple drips hooked up to the appropriate veins. Do I make myself clear?"

The man's sallow face and manic eyebrows seemed to twitch at the ice in her voice and finally picking up on the waves of rage rolling off her skin, he finally took a step back towards the single gluttonous clot of bodies swarming around the counter.

"Absolutely understood. Please accept my apologies ma'am."

It was only as she was turning back to the table, that Regina caught the strange glint shining in Mary Margaret's eye. One she wasn't entirely sure she'd ever seen before.

"That was nicely done." Said the teacher.

"Thank you, I'll be here all evening," replied the mayor wryly. Although she couldn't help an inward smile from forming at the unexpected compliment.

"Mom?"

Regina sighed though as she was brought down to earth immediately. She should have known though that her son wouldn't give up so easily on the issue of free food; he was nothing if not tenacious. Pinning him with as strict a gaze as she could muster, the mayor frowned.

"Henry this is not a discussion, we are accepting _no_ gifts from that man."

"No, I got that. It's just…" His small face screwed up with confusion. "Where's Emma?"

"What are you talking about, she's right there!"

Swivelling to her right, the brunette's chest constricted as she saw the empty chair beside her and the space on the table where their hands had been resting.

_Oh God._

And then a moment later a thought struck her.

_I let go of her. I let go of her hand._

The thought sent globules of panic and reflux up through her throat as she scanned the faces nearest to them, desperate for any signs of familiar blonde hair or smooth leather.

But there was nothing. In the midst of all the flesh and cotton filling the room, there wasn't even a trace of the Sheriff left.

Just fat. Greed. And gluttony.

She was gone.

And for the first time in a long time, pure unadulterated fear seeped into Regina's lungs.

TBC….


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Hello again from darkness towers. Here's the next instalment, many thanks to all those following, favouriting and reviewing, you guys are all my heroes...**

TELLS CHAPTER TEN:

She ran; hands flung out so that they scraped along the rough whitewashed walls, blazing a tangible trail as she stumbled on away from the horrendous clamour and clutching.

Crashing through the back entrance of the diner, she'd had a pretty good idea of what lay immediately ahead since she'd chased an inebriated Leroy down the long thin alleys enough times but unfortunately what she hadn't factored in was the ever changing litter that slumped along the concrete floor. Old wet cardboard snatched at her boots as she darted past, feeling more like crumpled fingers that latched on to her skin then something inanimate. What she could only assume was an old appliance of some kind almost tripped her up as she rounded the corner onto Bream Street, causing her to swear loudly then suck the sound back into her gums as she tried not to give herself away, breathing hotly.

She needn't have worried though; there was barely a soul around; in fact the only sound she could make out was her own salt breathing and the swirl of the occasional gust of wind sneaking through the slatted gaps in the garden fence-work.

It appeared as if most of the town had picked up on the unanticipated offer from Mr Gold and had headed down towards the diner armed with one of two things- cutlery or inquisitiveness. So she at least had a little breathing space.

Tears stung her eyes as a devastating realisation hit her.

She really had no idea what to do. Or where to go.

Everything she'd learned over the last year screamed at her to go back to the place that temporarily housed the people she cared about. Henry. Mary Margaret. Even Regina. That she could still avoid this fate and just tell them, let the words spill out of her mouth; allow them to see exactly how lost and alone she was. She could picture it even now. How they'd crowd around with compassionate smiles, take her arms so that she couldn't help but feel their concern as it was tattooed on shared skin. Wrap her up like a newborn in scarves and blankets, under layers of unease and reassurance and coddle her with cloying sentiment.

_You're so right, _the voices trilled_. You'd be mummified._

_With no way to untangle the bandages from the inside._

But what options did that leave?

Any thoughts of making it to the town line were little more than stillborn. It was too far to run even if she could divine the right direction to head in and the driving option was beyond dumb. So where should she go?

Where?

She considered the fort for a moment but knew in her heart that Henry would be the first to find her there and there was no way she could face that confrontation, coward that she was. Not with a kid who still thought that black and white were nothing but diametrically opposed forces.

Mary Margaret's apartment was geographically closest to her current position but again, even if she managed the treacherous steps that led to it, there was the matter of being found and the histrionics that would inevitably follow. She didn't need her sight to imagine how it would all go down, how the schoolteacher's face would scrunch then crumple completely, those almond eyes pinching at the corners. Then her chin dropping the way it did when she tried to contain any emotion she felt was out of place, before leaving the room for a moment.

For all her kindness, inappropriate emotional responses were pretty much her kryptonite.

Emma had seen it all before with David and the thought of being the cause of them this time was just too much. Her head was starting to pound and she could feel the pulse in her eye sockets, a throb that sent curved lines rippling through the black curtain in front of her. True, the nausea was subsiding a little in the cool night air which she was incredibly grateful for but in its place a rising swarm of panic bubbled up coating the insides of her throat. Choking any words she might whisper to calm herself before they even hit air.

She needed somewhere quiet to think. That was all. Somewhere private, where no-one would look for her. And then she hit on it.

The place she could go where no-one would find her.

Sucking in a deep, unlady-like breath Emma felt for the street-sign to her right and angled herself nor westerly as she started to move again, taking one step at a time after the curb was navigated. Just one foot in front of the other, she told herself. Even toddlers can manage that.

Right?

Regina was almost out of her mind.

After coming up with some ridiculous story about the Sheriff feeling queasy all day and the ensuing implications of her food choices, at least she'd managed to palm off the anxious Miss Blanchard. And although Henry had been typically Henry in wanting to go find his birth mother so that she could 'chuck up and check in' he'd eventually agreed to stay with his schoolteacher so that Regina could make sure he wouldn't catch anything contagious.

It had been plausible enough.

A lie with a kernel of truth- the only kind she ever allowed herself to tell.

And although she also knew she should probably remain in the diner, to keep an eye on the developing Gold situation, she was keenly aware that she couldn't just leave Emma to her growing demons. It was her fault after all. The gnawing rodent-guilt in her stomach told her as much.

She was responsible for this whole thing. Responsible for taking care of Emma when she needed someone. It was a horrifying epiphany but one that brought with it a strange warmth too that she hadn't expected. Hadn't asked for.

The question was now...where the hell was she supposed to look for the blonde?

Memories from earlier that day kept reverberating around in her mind, the dejection and helplessness she'd seen etched into the woman's face. Not just anxiety but a deep seated panic she'd never been privy to before. Would never have suspected before today.

So she had to think. Where would she go to hide? Where would she go that she thought no-one could find her?

Discounting the mansion immediately, she tried her office first, checking the lock for any signs of tampering but it was immediately obvious that no-one had been there in at least a few days. Wandering down Main Street, she peered into the dark windows of each shop, including the antiques boutique, clutching at straws as to where Emma might be, but each one was locked up, every back door tightly locked and sealed. Empty without their patrons greetings.

Crossing the street, Regina ran her hand through her hair as she searched her mind for an answer. The problem was that she didn't really know the Sheriff all that well. Not as well as she should, if she was honest with herself. Not as well as she inexplicably wanted to.

The thought just one in a whole series of ridiculous realisations.

But she had to focus now so she shook the ideas away and scoured her mind for a clue as to the blonde's whereabouts.

It was a forlorn hope more than anything but she walked down to the pier next, wondering if the solitude and the unending sounds of the surf might draw her quarry there. Once again though, she was greeted by an empty marina, the wheeling arching seagulls barely noticing her own presence. Cawing their judgements on her failure.

She let out a growl of frustration. Turning to head back into the main part of town, she was just beginning to let her own futility overwhelm her when her mobile phone began to vibrate in her pocket.

Pulling it out hastily, her stomach dropped as she saw an unlisted number pop up on the screen.

"Hello?"

She frowned as a voice from her past answered her. "I'm sorry to disturb you Madame Mayor..."

She cut them off angrily.

"This better be important Marty, I'm in the middle..."

"Yes Ma'am, it's just that...an intruder alert has gone over by the old hospital basement emergency exit."

"What?"

"I know you shut down surveillance on the building Ma'am and I would never call usually but it kind of seemed like an anomaly, since the underground floors were sealed off."

Suddenly a light bulb went off in her head.

_Could it be?_

It would be the perfect hiding place...

Mind swimming with a million questions, Regina sucked in a breath. "Right, well thank you for your diligence in this matter Marty. I appreciate you keeping me in the loop. I'll go down there and oversee the situation. It's probably just some kids but I'll take care of it."

"Are you sure Ma'am? I can organise one of my guys to..."

"That won't be necessary thank you. And...I appreciate your concern. Goodbye."

Stowing her phone back in her pocket, she pulled her coat tighter around her shoulders and headed back to her car with a new purpose in her step.

In under twelve minutes she was striding through the hospital lobby and making her way down past the janitor's closet...

Wondering how exactly the younger woman had found her way here.

Reaching the open doorway, hiding in the shadows of the underground corridor, Regina's heart pulsed as she saw the blonde woman sitting there silently, gnawing at her lip.

_Thank God. _

Her entire body seemed to elongate with relief. But unwilling to scare the Sheriff, she rapped lightly on the door's metal frame.

"Hey there."

Wide-eyed, her body falling into a defensive crouch, Emma started at the sound.

"Regina?!"

"The one and only."

Taking a few steps into the room, the brunette surveyed the Spartan pleasures it offered before her gaze was drawn back to the woman leaning up against the breezeblock wall on top of the bed.

"How did you find out this place even existed?" said Regina quietly.

Emma rested her head back.

"Belle told me once when she'd had a few too many margueritas down at the Rabbit Hole. Said if I ever found myself in need of a little…uh, discrete action… I couldn't find anywhere better suited. You know with the cameras and isolation and stuff."

To be honest, Regina didn't know whether she should be affronted by the clearly corrupted purpose the imprisoned girl had newly assigned to the room or to be impressed that she'd shown such innovation after her ordeal.

Standing there awkwardly in the open doorway considering the delicacy of those two warring emotions, she stared down at the shivering Sheriff who had wrapped the scratchy hospital blanket around her elbows. And suddenly the sub-dermal battle going on under her skin didn't matter so much. It all paled in the face of her need to comfort the younger woman in front of her. Whether it was her place or not.

She took a step into the room, planting her heel loudly on the cracked edge of a tile so that Emma would be aware of her at all times. Bending her knees, she lowered herself gingerly onto the end of the iron cast bed and winced at the angry squeal of metal coils.

Waiting.

Holding her muscles in stasis as she checked the blonde for those telltale fight or flight indicators she was coming to recognise.

There weren't any obvious ones that she could see though. Just a hollowness underneath her muscles, a lack of sufficient energy to even support her spine without being slumped against the wall. The desperate sight seemed to tear through some ancient part of her, filling her veins with an odd mixture of acid and sorrow.

"I'm surprised she hadn't repressed the memory of this room completely," she said softly, leaning back so that they were sat effectively mirroring each other.

Emma sniffed but didn't turn her head. "Some secrets have a surprising amount of shamelessness. Not so easy to block out."

There was silence for a moment, before Emma realised what she'd said.

"I…I didn't mean that. I wasn't talking about the things that you've done. Not that I'm sure you couldn't find examples where that might be exactly what you…Which is irrelevant…I was talking more about me though, you know. "

Pulling her knees up off the floor where they'd been dangling and curling them tightly up to her chest, the blonde grimaced at her own verbal clumsiness. "Maybe this _is_ the best place for me right now. Somewhere I can't hurt anyone. Even if I wanted to."

"Do you want to?"

Emma's chin dropped, as it rested on her knees. "Yes."

Everything fell silent.

"Is that why you brought me here?"

The Mayor swallowed hard as she asked the question that had first popped into her head when she'd gotten the phone call. "For revenge?"

Silence reigned. Neither woman able to bring themselves to contemplate the answer or even change the subject. Neither trying to read too much into the question that hung in the dank air. Although Emma found herself wishing that she could see the darker haired woman's features. Wondering what was flashing across her face right now. Pity? Anger?

Indifference?

"Well kudos on your choice of hiding place nonetheless." Regina managed to croak out finally.

"I thought it was one of my smarter ideas..." Emma trailed off as she considered. "…And that worked out about as fabulously as usual, huh?"

If this had been those two idiot parents of hers involved in this little cosplay, Regina knew that this would have been the perfect moment then. The perfect little scene for their simpering, their sentimentality; how they would have thrown out their maudlin catchphrase and grasped at each other with clumsy appreciation. But seeing their daughter there curled up in front of her….In front of the evil Queen, her blonde hair somewhat ratty, her skin dimmed by the darkness; spine bowed, the thought made her feel more than a little sick.

"I don't think I can do this Regina."

The brunette took that in quietly. "You can."

"No, you don't understand. It's not just this..." Emma waved a hand limply in front of her face as if that could better express the abject sightlessness she was lost in. "It's the dark. It kick-starts this panic in my stomach and I can't control it. I don't...I can't..." She growled as the words failed to come. "I can't live the rest of my life behind a black curtain."

The brunette had no idea what prompted her to do it as she reached a shaky hand out. She didn't even know what she was going to do with it when the time came but the blonde must have sensed the movement because she shook her head stopping her.

"Don't. I know that's childish. Little kids are supposed to be afraid of the dark, right? Not moms. Not freaking town _saviours_. Everyone expects you to grow out of it. But you don't _know_ what my life before Storybrooke was like." She gave a snort. "I'm sure you did all the background checks on me, where I lived, how long I stayed in each place. You've probably got all my stats sitting in some manila folder in a desk drawer somewhere, huh? Well, to tell you the truth, as disruptive as it was, the moving from foster home to foster home was the easy part. It was the moments you never saw coming that was the real kicker about it."

Confused, Regina knitted her eyebrows. "Meaning?"

Emma blew out harshly as if what she was about to say was difficult to elucidate.

"Meaning not all couples who foster kids are the Brady's. Some just want a puppy to kick without the fear of the ASPCA showing up at their door, you know? Don't get me wrong, I was closed off and a pain in the ass for a long time but I was never ungrateful to be taken in. Never. I tried my best to be the kid they wanted whether that was the school cheerleader or the class clown."

"But this is about something specific isn't it?" came the melancholy prompt.

Emma nodded briskly. "Their name was Bugler-Ronson. Rachael, the mom was actually pretty nice to me most of the time but her husband Randall; he had a mean streak and an addiction to cheap whisky. It was ok for a while but about nine months after moving in, he caught me in his study with the lights off, playing some board game with his sobriety chip as my token; the one he'd gotten from the only time he'd tried to kick his habit. He just about went insane at the sight of it." She shivered at the memory. "Dragged me out of the living room by my hair then up the stairs. He started yelling in my face. '_Like sneaking around in the dark do you? Like making fun of people's god given flaws'? _Or something to that effect. I guess I tried to explain that I'd just thought the chip was pretty but he was so wound up by then that he didn't hear a word I said. Anyway, he pushed me into the middle of my room, switching on the light and grabbed a baseball bat I'd stashed in my closet."

Emma stopped for a moment, letting all the matchstick thin words that had flown out of her mouth drop to the icy floor. "He put the end of it in my face with this godawful shit-eating grin then swung it backwards like a ball player. I figured he was going to beat the shit out of me at first so I tensed every muscle in my body but then he seemed to aim a lot higher and sent it crashing into the lamp above us. The bulb shattered instantly. Everything went black in a moment and it wasn't until a few seconds later that I felt blood on my face from the glass cuts as the pieces rained down on us."

She heard Regina suck in a shocked breath at that point but kept going, trying desperately to explain the way she was feeling before she lost the ability. Or the nerve.

"Weirdly, he didn't seem to notice his own pain but he sure seemed to notice mine. Randall threw the bat away and kneeled down so he could press his hand into my face and grind the pieces in even further. Then he said something I'm pretty sure I'll never be able to get out of my head. '_You can shut your eyes all you want Princess. That won't keep the real monsters at bay. And darkness don't heal no scars either.' _He left then, content I guess that he'd gotten his message across. He barely spoke a word to me afterwards until the time I left six weeks later. Oh except for throwing out every replacement light bulb in the house so I couldn't have a light on in my room anymore. He liked to think of me there lying on my bed I suppose, not even able to read or do my homework. Just lying there. In the dark by myself. Thinking about exactly what kind of monsters there were in the world."

Her voice finally trailed off and Emma licked the lips that had gotten parched from talking so long.

"God Emma...I...I'm so sorry."

"Thanks, "she replied in a small voice.

"You've never told anyone that before, have you?"

She gave a shrug. "I wanted you to see. It's not just that I'm being a coward. Which may be true in part. But it's _more_ than that. Every second I'm stuck like this, it reminds me that there are people like him in the world. That what he said was right. It's like I'm back there and he's the one with all the power and a handful of glass."

It was at that point that Emma felt the mattress shift and suddenly found herself engulfed in a devastating bear hug; her entire body covered with warm skin and soft cotton. Instinctively she flinched but then she felt something. Soft fingertips rubbing the back of her neck, making reassuring circles underneath her hair and it felt...good. Letting herself relax, she returned the hug, resting her head on the shoulder in front of her, drawing comfort from the ease with which it came.

"He wasn't right Emma. And I'm going to stay as long as it takes until we prove that."

The soft words reverberated next to the blonde's ear and she almost gave a gasp so strong was their effect on her. So powerful was the commitment behind them.

"Thank you," she whispered, tears burning at the edge of her eyes.

"You don't ever have to thank me." Said the brunette gently, letting her fingers repeat the message.

Letting everything else just fade away,

They stayed that way for a long time then. Each soothing the other in some inexplicable way; words no longer necessary to convey anything. Just feeling breath moving in and out of each others body in a normal, unconscious manner. Without thought. Or fear.

In and out.

Out and in.

No panic, no defensive. Simply two people existing at the same time.

Neither wanting to break the moment. At least until Regina felt something pinch her shoulder and realised Emma was yawning despite her best efforts not to.

"You need to get some sleep."

Emma's tangled curls shook. "Not tired."  
"The jawbone burrowing into my clavicle would suggest otherwise, dear," she replied with a smile.

"Well, maybe a little. But I don't really want to move."

The mayor nodded her agreement although she knew no good would come of prolonging their fatigue and truth be told, she was starting to feel a little weary herself.

Emma tried to stifle another yawn. "What time is it anyway?"

Regina lifted her arm up to peer at her watch. "Ten past ten."

"Do you think...Could we...maybe...stay here tonight?"

That threw her for a second. She knew deep down that she should get the Sheriff somewhere safe, somewhere she could shower and wash off the day's nightmarish qualities. Somewhere near to outside help in case it was needed. But then her brain told her that whoever was behind this outlandish plot couldn't possibly discover them down here in this forgotten place. And the tattered old mattress they were sitting on was surprising pliable and yielding. She shouldn't have been surprised by that really; she'd picked it out herself for Rumplestiltskin's little friend, offering her some piecemeal comfort at least during her hard captivity.

Her mind vacillated between options.

"Please?"

It was the pleading deference in Emma's voice that finally made the decision for her and she found herself relenting.

"Ok. We'll sleep here tonight and get an early start on fixing this tomorrow. Deal?"

"Deal," said a relieved Emma.

Pronouncement made, Regina let her habits kick in and set about making them comfortable. Pulling back, her body missing the proximity of skin, hands on the Sheriff's shoulders she brought her up to her feet then making sure she wasn't going to fall over, rearranged the relatively clean sheets, pulling them down and tucking the corners in. Then, helping her sit on the bed's edge, removing the blonde's jacket, jeans (for which she modestly averted her eyes- for the most part) and finally her awkwardly fitted boots, she helped the tired woman slip in between the sheets; the glimpse of her spine as she faced away cutting through any concrete thoughts she might have had forming. She shucked off her own coat and with a little hesitation, let her pant suit trousers pool on the floor with a touch of colour in her cheeks. Although why she should be embarrassed she wasn't sure, since Emma obviously couldn't see her standing there in nothing more than a silk slip and underwear.

The whole situation was strangely charged though- she couldn't deny it.

Not that that was getting the baby bathed.

Clearing her head with a little shake, the Mayor gingerly lay herself down on top of the blanket, stretching her legs out towards the far end in an attempt to get comfortable.

"What're you doing?" came a tired voice.

"Lying down of course, Miss Swan."

"Are you insane, it's freezing in here. Just get under the covers."

"I'm quite comfortable here thank you."

"The blonde turned in response, so that she was now facing her companion.

"You're being ridiculous. I don't bite you know."

"Yes but do you snore is a better question? Henry certainly doesn't get that from me."

Grousing a little, Regina watched with mirth as a frown formed on the younger woman's features.

"Stop deflecting and get in. But hurry up would you...some of us have had a busy day."

She huffed at the blonde's ill-disguised irritation but she couldn't deny that it would be a lot more snug under the blanket what with the breeze block walls all around. So she went against her instincts and gave in. Dragging herself up again, she lifted the edge of the blanket and slid inside the sheets, angling herself so that she faced the far wall, her back to her sleeping partner.

"Are you happy now, Miss Swan?"

There was no reply.

Except for a loud particularly fake sounding snore that hit the back of her neck.

"Hilarious," she replied archly.

"Class clown, remember."

"Good night Sheriff."

Closing her eyes, Regina finally allowed her body to relax a little as she tried to ignore the hum of live skin behind her. It was made easier by her own weariness. And yet. She was still keenly aware of the semi-naked woman next to her. Especially when she felt sudden movement. Followed by warm breath sliding across her neck and a supple arm curl across her hip; a change of position that sending skittering detonations running along her bones.

She almost froze. Had to remind herself to breathe normally or the damned woman would pick up on her erratic exhalations. So she focused on her breathing again, hoping the trick wasn't a one time thing. Focused on the soundlessness of it. The simplicity. But this time how personal it was to her and her alone.

In and out.

In...

Out...

And slowly, slowly she finally began to drift off into a blank twilight state; dimly aware of her surroundings but unresponsive to them, wrapped up in them.

Warm and safe. Drifting.

Deeper.

It was just as she was teetering on the edge of sleep that a drowsy voice entered her consciousness.

"'Gina?"

"Mmm."

"I would never have brought you here for revenge."

Regina's lungs stilled, as she waited to see where this conversation was going.

Emma though, simply snuggled in closer. "At first it was just hiding. But then...I figured if anyone was going to find me it'd be you. And if you _were_ going to find me in some forgotten dark room, you might just be able to understand a little of what this is like for me. I hope that's ok."

For once in her life, the Mayor didn't know how to respond.

Heart pounding at the honesty and trust inherent in the blonde's sleepy tone, Regina turned over and dropped a soft kiss on Emma's forehead, not trusting her voice to convey exactly how close she felt to her in that moment.

"Go to sleep now." She forced out. "Tomorrow will be better."

Flipping over again, she pulled Emma's arm back into position across her hip and closed her eyes. Still picturing the loose smile burrowing into the nape of her neck.

TBC...


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: I know it's been about a million years since I updated and I'm so so so sorry! Please accept my apologies- I've been weighed down with work and writing posts for my movie blog. Not that that's any excuse. Anyway this is kind of a bridging chapter to some major action/plot stuff and some big reveals, so try not to hold that against me. There is some SQ fluff/angst in there- hopefully that makes up for it. **

**Again any reviews from story's followers are like stars in my dark sky! **

**TELLS CHAPTER 11:**

There was no natural light in the basement cell.

If either of them had had the energy last night to pick up on that, they might have at least set an alarm on someone's phone but as it was, the sun was well up when Regina's eyes began to flutter open, a strand of dark hair dangling cheekily in front of her pupil.

Barely conscious, she buried her head further into the thin pillow and enjoyed the balmy glow of heat emanating from the slumbering blonde next to her. Somehow she must have turned over in the night because now she was lying face to face with Emma, and if she tried a little, she was sure she could feel the occasional warm breath cross the space between them and tickle her cheek.

It was a strangely satisfying sensation. Free of any of the complications she'd ever had with those that had shared her bed including the Huntsman and the occasional guard. And she couldn't help imagining just for the briefest moment, what it would be like to wake up to such a ridiculous pleasure every day. How it could fit into her morning routine.

As snug and lethargic as she was though she was also aware of a whole host of other things burgeoning in her mind as she lay there enjoying the peace.

She knew she should get straight up. For one, the damp chill of the room would only elongate the shared aches their bodies were feeling the longer they stayed and truth be told they should get moving if they were ever going to wade through the nightmare in front of them. Being stationary only seemed to exacerbate the dark thoughts brewing in the other woman's mind, and using up some kinetic energy might just prove an uncomplicated distraction if nothing else.

Peering across at her companion, Regina took in the sight of her. The soft curve of her cheek, the slight flutter in those long eyelashes as she slept. The problem was, she also knew that Emma wasn't the only one who proved there was a correlation between remaining still and allowing dejection to worm its way into normal everyday thought-processes. She'd had enough experience of that herself.

"That's kind of creepy, you know."

Regina started. "What is?"

"You staring at me." Emma mumbled, although she hadn't moved at all and her eyes were still closed.

Regina scowled. "I was not staring. And how would you know even if I was? Which I wasn't. Just to clarify."

A lopsided grin lit up the Sheriff's face then, most of it camouflaged by the pillow. "Your breathing got all…still. Like you were really concentrating on something. And, let's face it; what else have you got to look at in here. It's me or some lacklustre whitewash. Not much of a choice I know but I'd really hope you'd pick me out of the two."

She didn't know what made her do it but the blonde looked so youthful and mischievous in that moment, her words held an undertone so unlike her defiant self that the mayor couldn't help herself. Pushing a sheaf of blonde hair away from Emma's shoulder, Regina leaned down and planted a soft kiss on a freckle on the skin there, moulding her lips around it. Emma blinked in response, those veiled green eyes opening but her muscles didn't flinch or give any indications of moving away.

"What was that for?"

Regina stopped.

"I don't…I…I just wanted…"

Her mind reeled as it tried frantically to put into words what exactly it was she was feeling. But there weren't any. None that even began to elucidate the nervousness or the protectiveness coursing through her.

"I….That is…I just wanted to..." She stopped again, as a blush lit up her cheeks, sending a wash of heat through her neck muscles.

"Hey." Emma raised her upper torso and leaned over to cup her face. "I think that's my line isn't it?"

Regina let out a little sniff.

"Besides you get the better end of the deal, remember."

"Is that right?"

"You get to see what I'm thinking." Emma said forlornly and the simplicity inherent in those seven words tore into the brunette's muscles. "I'd give anything to see your face. Guarded as it undoubtedly is."

The mayor swallowed as she stared at the face an inch away; a face lined with fatigue and exhaustion. She reached up and clasped the warm hand covering her cheek. "...Then as much as we'd both like to stay here…"

Emma groaned but Regina was undeterred, "…and _that_ fact is in absolutely no doubt, Miss Swan." She leaned forward and planted her lips on the warm ones in front of her. "Perhaps we should work on fixing that particular issue as soon as possible?"

Emma scrunched up her features but accepted the sweetness of the kiss and with a sigh nodded to signal her agreement, the strands of hope that had been so noticeably absent up until now, growing inside her stomach for the first time.

They were both dressed and out the door in the space of a few minutes, neither woman vocalising a request but both turning their back to face the corner so as not to embarrass the other.

Then they were away, and the cold morning chill felt stimulating on their skin after being underground in the dark for so long.

_Some longer than others…_

The thought came unbidden, unsubstantiated and Regina pushed it away and squeezed Emma's hand as she slipped her mobile back into her pocket.

"So Henry's safely in school, Mary Margaret will take him for a smoothie afterwards which leaves us ample time to make a start at the library."

"I don't really see how the Hardy boys are going to be any help in this situation."

The blonde muttered it to herself mostly, under her breath but unfortunately Regina had exceptional hearing and cleared her throat in chastisement.

"It may look provincial Miss Swan but there's a restricted section in the back that only myself and Gold have access to. It's where we stored the more…incendiary spell-casting manuscripts."

"How comforting for the citizens of Storybrooke."

Emma couldn't see it of course but Regina snuck a glance at her sticking her tongue out as they wandered along. a side street, past a line of terraced wood-chip houses, the neat front gardens winking in the clear day. And somehow the sheer stupidity of the action making her feel better. As if nothing could be so horribly wrong if there were still jokes and insults to be thrown around.

It was a cheap device really, but she didn't care.

As long as they were doing something proactive.

She had never been the kind to sit and wait for disaster.

So they kept walking, avoiding most of the thoroughfares that seemed to be clogged with townspeople, the urge to be outside on a spring day proving too much to ignore or so it would appear. Emma still seemed a little skittish at the sounds around her, and so Regina did her utmost to keep to the more secluded streets around town.

As they strode towards their destination though, after about fifteen minutes the blonde began to lag behind a bit. Took one less step in every three or four of Regina's as her mind seemed to wander around the borderlands of something. It was a small distinction in terms of stride and she wasn't even conscious of doing it but psychologically it seemed to be enough to give her time to try and figure out what it was that was bugging her. Because there was something plaguing her that she couldn't quite put her finger on; something that had occurred to her as she dressed earlier then flitted away.

It was so subtle in fact that it took a while for the Mayor to notice the disparity in their steps, focusing as she was on the goal ahead of them and when it finally did hit her, Emma was a good couple of paces behind with a scowl plastered on her face.

"Emma?" said Regina, pausing.

"I feel like I'm missing something."

The brunette looked back as neutrally as she could. "Missing something?"

Emma frowned patting the pockets of her jacket then her jeans, as if that might somehow jog her memory into remembering. "You know that feeling like you forgot to turn the stove off or something?"

There was something askew, she was sure of it- beyond the obvious. Something she hadn't done, that she usually did without giving it even a moments thought. Something about as obvious as they come.

_But what the hell was it?_

Emma huffed out some air when nothing revealed itself, either to her grimy fingertips or her brain.

Gah, I'm probably just losing my mind. Never mind." Her chin dropped. "Ignore me."

"I've tried many times Miss Swan, it's an act that's easy to attempt and surprisingly difficult to achieve."

"Ha _freaking_ ha."

The blonde didn't need her sight to know there was a teasing smile on the other woman's face in response to that and clapped her hands together in slow motion to signify her hilarity. The moment at the very least did seem to break the tension that had been slowly building though and put a little spring in their step.

Making their way onto the main windswept street, both women shared a new sense of purpose. Striding under a grey sky, they moved towards the library with Emma's arm lightly touching the hem of Regina's thick coat- a barely noticeable gesture that inexplicably kept her breathing even and feet moving forward. She didn't need it really, not since the mayor's heels were clacking over the flagstones loud enough to wake the dead but neither woman felt the need to question the motion, both content to just let it play out whichever way it was going to.

And so the street names passed.

It was the other side of the Pedestrian crossing, approaching the central square, that Emma's pace slowed again as the full bustling sounds of town-life hit her ears; a strange auditory perfume of affable chatter, murmurings and the weekly catcalls of market-stall sellers offering everything from leeks, marrows, and leather accessories to cheap braising cuts of local meat. It reminded her instantly of the chaos from last night, sending fluttering waves rebounding through her chest but she kept on moving, unwilling to give in to the tawdry panic burbling underneath her skin.

"Pears- five for a pound!"

"Get your fresh steaks here, first come first served!"

"Posters, movie posters now in!"

She listened quietly taking in the cacophony of offers and voices tinged with the desperate need for a sale. Shoe shines. Woollen winter knitwear.

Hell, even the odd tattered edition of classic American novels apparently. The sonorous voice of a man had suddenly boomed out into the morning air, startling her.

"Walt Whitman! Second edition! Slight scuff marks to the jacket but otherwise intact."

She slowed down even more.

"Ladies and Gentleman, introducing Ezra Pound. Modernist, melodic and in mint condition!"

Emma screwed up her nose. Even now the names meant little to her although she recognised them in some vague, disinterested way from English class back in the day. Recognised those scratchy, pointed consonants that they'd been forced to read; letters that spoke of nothing but pretentiousness and condescension. For a moment, they flashed across the blackness around her in golden script. In handwriting that wasn't neat enough. Wasn't discernible enough.

And she felt the voices starting to spin at the back of her spine again.  
Fortifying themselves.

"Emma?"

"Booker T Washington, get your copy here- unsigned but as good as the day it was written!"

_For those who have a brain to understand it,_ they gloated.

"Hmmm?"

"Are you all right?"

_Nothing a brain transplant wouldn't fix._

Emma stopped, a tight smile on her face at the concern in Regina's voice. "Yeah, I was…just thinking about school, you know."

Regina shrugged. "Well I suppose you have to focus on something without my natural beauty to distract you."

The blonde let out a laugh. "Conceited much?"

"It's irrefutable, dear."

"Is that what it is?" She crossed her arms. "Would you care to explain that for the remedial's at the back of the class?"

Suddenly Emma felt an arm wrap around her back, unlocking her defensive stance, and with complete surprise felt the other woman's warmth spreading out through her arms, embracing the whole of her body right there in the street. She froze for a second; couldn't help it. It was an instinct deeply ingrained in her bones- one she wasn't sure she'd ever be able to rid herself of. But the sensation of temperate digits resting carefully on her spine combined with the earthy scent of the woman next to her sent her senses into instant overload.

"It's indisputable," Regina purred against her skin.

"Uh…Regina, we're in the middle of the street, people are kind of gonna notice you…"

A light trail of fingertips snuck their way beneath her collar, making her suck in the breath she was about to exhale.

"Say it with me Sheriff. Unassailable."

Emma squeaked as something soft feathered against her neck, moving upwards behind her ear and she couldn't tell whether it was a pair of lips or the curve of a palm coasting along her skin. Either way it was…damn close to incredible.

"Incontrovertible."

She tried again. "Regina…this isn't…."

"Incontestible…. Just _embrace_ it."

That was the word that broke her a little. Giving in to her desire and burrowing into her neck, Emma blinked sightlessly, trying not to let herself get too lost in the wonderful array of sensations rumbling underneath her clothes.

"Do you even know what you're doing, right now?" she said softly.

She felt the muscles around her shift in answer and wet warmth by her ear again. "I'm distracting you from _them_, Miss Swan."

Emma stood stock still- the admission from the brunette throwing her for a complete loop. Yes, she had tried to explain last night about some things that had happened to her in the past, things that had moulded her into the person she was now but she'd never verbalised exactly what she was going through right now, never explicitly said she was constantly under attack from some… insidious chorus.

"I…that is, how…distracting me from who?"

Emma held her breath as she forced the question out.

She knew she had no right to test the woman who had been a crutch since this whole thing had started, a woman who in all their previous encounters had proven time and time again that they could never be anything other than adversaries but a small bloom of something resembling anticipation seemed to be budding in her chest and she had to know for sure what Regina meant before it flourished and putrefied in the same second.

"We all have tells Emma," came the reply. "And I've lived with darkness for much longer than most people do. I know what it tastes like and how it sounds. I remember the timbre of its voice and how it chooses exactly what it should say to make you cower."

Emma let out a gasp.

"But you don't have to listen to them. You don't have to do anything that they say. So since this may be the only opportunity, and it seems a shame to waste an audience, you tell them from me…that the fun's over."

The two of them stood there for a few moments, clinging to each other as the wind wrapped around their legs.

"Ok," whispered the blonde finally.

"Ok." Regina answered. "Now where were we…"

They'd been ensconced there in the library for over two hours. Regina had overcome the magical lock with a complicated incantation that had left her wheezing a little, although she'd refused the offer to take a few minutes to get her breath back. Once they'd settled in, Regina had begun reading out passages from tomes she thought might have been helpful and had used Emma as a sounding board, since she was unable to decipher the pages herself.

But after much heated discussion about the semantics of what constituted sight and how magic could all too often be confused with the rudimentary aspects of science, both women were feeling exceptionally frustrated, impatient and feeling a little caged.

"So that Alganyen root definitely couldn't have been mixed with anything else to cause this?"

"We've been over this; it's one of the few plants that reacts to any other living thing. It would lose all its essential vitality the moment it came into contact with any other property," said Regina, a little more forcefully than she meant to.

"What about that…uh…Gilpandia?"

"Extinct."

"Dewmembra?"

"Extremely rare, extremely toxic. It would cause your lungs to fill with fluid well before you lost your sight."

"Huh…Nightmonks Blindendia?"

"That's a bunch of words you made up, Miss Swan."

Emma threw her hands up. "Well that rules out the homeopathy thing."

"Indeed."

"And we couldn't ask Blue?"

"Fairy magic even if it's mixed with other forms has a very distinctive aroma to it. Whatever Jefferson was wielding, it wasn't of the fairy genus."

"I'd like to grab him by the genus. Really hard."

Regina got up from her desk to stretch her legs and grimaced at Emma's desolate expression.

"What about dwarves- do dwarves have magic?"

"No. Lots of hair. No magic."

"Excellent. So Leroy and his mates have no supernatural use unless you're into plushies. Or furries."

Regina looked blankly at her.  
Emma for her part didn't offer up any explanations, just ran a hand roughly across her face and slumped back in her chair.

"We need to think about it logically. Take it from the beginning to see if there are any patterns. So what do we _know_? That Jefferson must have been aware that I was at your house that night, must have been watching one or both of us at the very least. And then something switched. Either he saw an opportunity to strike or he had the whole thing planned out and was given the green light."

"I'm more inclined to believe it was opportunistic. Smart he may be but you've seen his garments- meticulous he is definitely not."

Emma accepted that. "So he had the magic or the herb on him when he came, which implies some level of premeditation. And even though he was the weapon… according to you he's never been more than a puppet, meaning there has to be someone more powerful pulling the strings."

"Correct. When I knew him, he was a mercenary at heart, offering services to those who could basically afford to pay for them. Morals not a mutually exclusive part of the bargain."

"Clearly since he had no problem bringing his daughter in this," grimaced the blonde. "And he's from Wonderland? Like 'Alice in Wonderland' Wonderland? "

The ridiculousness of her own question flitted through her but she tried to contain it as best she could.

"Originally, but he's a nomad at heart. He's probably crossed more realms and been to more lands than anyone I know." Replied her companion."

"So the big bad could be from anywhere geographically?! How fabulous."

_That shoots down that line of enquiry._

"Ok so for all we know he could have been recruited here, there or anywhere. How very Al Quaeda of them. And we can't identify the source of…." The blonde harrumphed, waving her hand in front of her face. "…this, so is there anything we can rule out at least?"

Regina considered the question, an unconscious smile illuminating the tension in her face. She was beginning to see why Emma had made such an efficient bounty hunter before she'd come here to Storybrooke. Once she set her mind to something, she was obviously rational as well as bright, direct, methodical and more tenacious than a pug with its teeth clamped around someone's leg.

Not that that was a metaphor she was ever going to let slip out of her mouth. Not unless she wanted to feel the ninja kick of the working bondswoman.

Truth be told, she _was_ more impressed than she'd ever been though.

"We can rule out Gold as the puppet master."

Emma didn't look convinced.

"In the café he was _not_ acting like himself. He must have been under the influence of something to act so…"

"Human?!"

Regina gave a snort. "Human. Indeed. But it's not just that… as sinister as it was to witness."

"Damn straight." Emma mumbled.

"He and Maleficent have history. And I don't mean your average street-cat 'arguing on the back stairs where the neighbours can hear' history; I'm talking about something a little more tempestuous and universal. A little more war-based. There were armies and sacrifices…a lot of blood was spilled in their names and banners used in fights like that don't tend to go down easily. There's no way on earth that either of those people would share space let alone go around offering each other bear hugs."

Regina frowned. "Meaning that only someone motivated by something extremely powerful would have been able to gain possession of them."

"But for what purpose? They didn't set about blowing up the town or anything. They just bought everyone dinner! What does that have to do with my eyes? What kind of vengeance is that? And why couldn't I have switched with one of them- I'd blow everything in my bank account if that's what their grand plan needed."

Emma let out an acrid breath and silence swarmed immediately into the dusty space.

Filling it with heat and dissatisfaction.

"I don't know." Said Regina then, quietly. Apologetically.

And the unexpected admission brought a wave of hot shame to the blonde's cheeks, as she realised once again she'd put her foot right in her mouth.

_Good going, Swan. Alienate your only lifeline._

"Jeez, it's ok; I didn't really expect you to answer. You've been nothing but amazing so far Regina, I'm just sounding off. _I'm_ sorry. I couldn't do this without you- really."

Emma waited again, tamping down her nerves.

Hoping that she hadn't crossed the line that would leave her facing this on her own.

Regina said nothing for a minute.

The longest minute of Emma's life.

Finally she nodded, although she knew the younger woman couldn't see, and found herself pacified at least for the moment by the sincerity inherent in the statement. It didn't assuage the ache of helplessness burning through her sternum though. She wasn't used to dealing with such an alien sensation. At least not for a long time.

"You're welcome, Emma. And I'm not going anywhere."

The blonde gave a genuine smile in response to that, keeping it on as she tried to refocus her mind. To get back in the game.

"So we know the pawns, right? We know who the small players are." She thought about that. "Just not the wizard behind the curtain."

Biting down on her lip, she looked up. "Is there anything about this whole thing that reminds you of anyone powerful you've met before? Does it seem like a familiar M.O. at all?"

The Mayor's heart sunk at the question she'd know was coming.

Sunk into her shoes as she thought back to the night it all happened- her abject terror when she'd thought Jefferson had been reaching for Emma's chest. For Emma's heart.

The fear had turned out to be unfounded in the end but that hadn't meant that tendrils of doubt and remembrance hadn't been firmly in place ever since. Memories resurfacing of dark days when she had been young and poor and had allowed herself to be terrorised by one person; the only person she'd never been able to stand up to, no matter how hard she had wished for the strength. A woman she'd hoped had died years ago.

"Regina?"

She couldn't bring herself to say the name. It just wouldn't seem to drop from her lips instead clinging there like poison.

But she had to. Had to warn the blonde that if her suspicions were correct and God, she hoped they weren't, then they had a lot more to worry about than their current situation. Everything would be in jeopardy. Everything she'd built. Everyone she loved.

Especially them.

"Regina, you're starting to freak me out a little…" said Emma with a tinge of nerves. "And not in a sexy way."

_She had to do it._

It was now or never.

In a brief attempt to buttress herself, the brunette turned her gaze to the dusty window and stared at the street below.

A street with a few people milling around. A mother with her two young girls, clasping their hands as they made their way across the tarmac. A grizzled man wrapped up in a checked shirt and puffa jacket rubbing his hands together to keep the biting wind from them.

And another fellow loitering on the street corner next to a postbox…A tall thin man, in a longcoat…

"…Damnable son of a bitch!" she exclaimed.

"What?!" Jumping to her feet in panic, Emma swung her head round wildly. "What is it?"

Regina turned back, eyes wide. "It's Jefferson."

Emma blinked and curled her hands into fists with a wild aggression lighting up her face. "Is he in here?"

The brunette didn't even answer, just grabbed her coat and threw it on, then sprinted across the room in a very un-mayoral fashion grabbing the blonde's shoulders and pushing her towards the open doorway.

"We've got to follow him!"

Feeling a warm hand slip into hers, Emma threw aside any other questions she might have and focused on each step, increasing her speed to keep up with the woman next to her without the possibility of landing face first on the ground. As they exited the building, she took the short opportunity to lift her chin up and take in the outside air as they slowed their pace and began to follow their prey.

Because now at least they had a lead….

TBC…


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: So sorry about the delay, had a lot of block on this chapter. Enjoy though, plot reveals coming up soon…PS I'm a horse and reviews are like hay to me ;) **

**TELLS: Chapter 12**

They followed Jefferson for what seemed like an age. Not that either woman had kept a particularly good grip on timekeeping over the last day or so, but the disorienting effect of timelessness was warped even more out of kilter for Emma who couldn't even check her watch to ground herself with it's familiar face.

Both women kept things in check by taking one step at a time, matching pace with their target as he wound his way around town. That wasn't the strangest thing about the whole thing though. That was reserved for the path he seemed to choose- the Hatter's aimless meandering appearing to Regina little more than some haphazard game. First he stopped off in the grocery store on Hoboken Avenue but came out with nothing to show for the trip, not even a carton of cigarettes although the vendor waved affably as he left. Then they tracked him as he cut across the town's main square, stopping to awkwardly shake the hand of the florid-faced, balding grocer before walking on, pulling his coat around him as a gust of wind passed.

"Since when did he become such a people person?" Regina whispered.

"What do you mean?"

Regina cursed as she realised she'd said it out loud and Emma had no idea what she was referring to. "Nothing, dear."

Levering the blonde's arm against hers, she risked a glance backwards. "There's a step down here to the curb."

Emma nodded and they crept along the sidewalk, grateful for the row of awnings that threw their path into shadow. Making their way along, steps in synch, the two women kept a good five hundred yards between them and their prey as they moved, both ignoring the biting currents of air that seemed to be aiming directly for their faces.

"You know being downwind like this, if he was a gazelle, and we were a pair of lions we'd totally bring his ass down."

Regina pursed her lips. "What a thoroughly useful and relevant comment Miss Swan, please do feel free to share any others you might have brewing in that brain of yours."

"You were totally thinking the same thing," muttered Emma childishly.

"I can guarantee you, I certainly was not."

"Was to."

"I was…." Regina froze as her gaze returned to the grey street for a second and she suddenly noticed that Jefferson had moved out of view.

"Damn!" Scanning the grey avenue, she tried to tamp down the pounding in her chest as she looked around for any signs of that ratty maroon overcoat or those fingerless gloves she'd learned to loathe. But there was nothing. Just damp, emotionless concrete... Damp concrete, the fluttering of their town flag under a heavy sky and the sounds of Emma's breathing next to her ear.

Nothing that even remotely spoke to his whereab...

Wait. There.

She caught a glimpse of dark cloth as it rounded the corner of the intersection and forced herself to pick up their pace, dragging a startled Sheriff in her grip as they jogged forwards, the sidewalk thankfully clear of store chalkboards and other potential tripping hazards.

Running on, the Mayor let her breath return to something approaching normal as Jefferson swung into full view again, his own tempo much more animated than before. She hoped to God he hadn't been spooked by anything. That he was as lost in his own twisted world as usual and had just realised he was behind schedule for whatever foolish design he was caught up in. They deserved a break. Both of them.

Especially Emma. Peering over at her huffing companion, Regina took a moment to link her arms through the blonde's again, rubbing her thumb along the younger woman's palm in what she could only hope was a hurried, silent attempt to fortify her, their proximity to the Hatter making verbal communication too risky.

She saw the flash of appreciation in the tight planes of Emma's face though, cutting through her anxiety and it buttressed her into moving them on, both women almost hugging the glass panes of the store fronts until they were forced to cross the road into open space; the cold expanse more than enough to send shivers of vulnerability through both of them. They ignored it, neither commenting. Neither complaining when their feet started to ache and chafe from the constant motion. Because at least they were doing something productive.

Something real.

At least that's what Regina kept telling herself metre after metre, stride after stride as they snuck down those less well tended streets, past the more obviously decaying, ramshackle houses that went unnoticed at the beginning of the town outskirts. Past everything until they were walking towards the only other building that existed in this desolate, garbage strewn part of town.

She stopped then for a moment, halting them as she watched Jefferson's form take a quick glance around then make its way up the stone steps and push through the glass revolving door into the interior of the dilapidated old bus station.

"Why are we stopping?"

Regina took a second to get her breath back. "Because he went in there..."

Emma raised an eyebrow. "And _there _is?"

"The bus depot."

"Well that doesn't make any sense."

"Nothing has for a while now, Sheriff or haven't you noticed?"

Emma bit down on her lip. "No, I mean, no-one's allowed to leave Storybrooke, right? So why would you even need a bus station?"

"Really, that's your main concern right now?" said Regina tartly, her mind desperately flipping through scenarios on what they should do now. The options were multiple; splintered and unwise. They could run in there and confront the man, hoping he might give them a clue as to what the hell was going on, if they appeared threatening enough. Or they could keep to the background and see if he gave something away by accident.

She should have known the blonde wasn't going to let something go so easily though.

"Seriously, you made this place didn't you? Like every tree, every park bench down to that ratty old toll bridge. Why even conjure a bus station up?"

Regina blew out with exasperation, "Haven't you ever heard of a paper tiger Miss Swan? Sometimes the appearance of something is as effective as the thing itself."

Emma thought about that for a moment. "But…someone at some time must have just thought screw it, I'm doing it, I'm leaving this rinky-dink little town and gone inside to get a ticket."

"No."

"Never?!"

"No. Can we get on now?"

"Ironically a statement said by anyone waiting for the Greyhound... ever." Emma groused.

"Sheriff!"

"All right. So what's the plan?"

Regina paused as she realised she'd been asking herself the exact same question for the last five minutes; spinning it around to see if there was one single answer that'd make this whole thing easier to deal with. But every avenue seemed to offer thornier problems rather than solutions. If there was any kind of confrontation, Emma would undoubtedly become a target, more so than she'd already been. If they snuck in, chances were Jefferson could be in one of a hundred places in the large building and would almost certainly notice their presence before they'd formulated a plan.

"I think perhaps it's time for a little improv."

Emma eventually nodded, acquiescing as much as she could despite the fact that the action stung her pride as it always did

Grabbing Regina's arm, the mayor saying nothing more, they made their way inside the dilapidated building.

Creeping into the colossal white foyer, Regina guided them soundlessly through the large expanse of empty space, ignoring the blank screens hovering above where times and destinations would usually flicker; would usually flip down to notify a change of schedule. Crossing a marble floor cut up into equidistant squares, she kept her hand firmly interlinked with the Sheriff's as she spied a tunnel ahead, and moved them onwards without even questioning why she had chosen that particular path. The need for such questions feeling unnecessary in some small way.

Stalking down the curved corridor, they listened for movement as their steps passed. And at first, in fact for a long time, there was nothing but the click of their shoes on the hard floor to guide them, the dull echo ghosting their faces. Until there was something else. Indistinct and so quiet she wasn't even sure she'd heard it in the first place.

Emma strained her ears.

But there it was again. A flicker of soft chatter. People talking somewhere, their voices muffled and wet as if she was listening to a wire tap of a short conversation.

"Regina," she whispered. "Do you hear that?"

Regina pulled up next to her. "Hear what?"

"Talking."

The mayor stilled and tilted her head as she listened to the soundlessness. To the polished unconscious of the building. After a moment, she looked over at her companion quizzically.

"Are you sure?"

Emma screwed up her nose. "I...I think so."

"And you're sure this isn't a ridiculous attempt to convince me that your other senses are becoming more dominant since you lost your sight."

Emma blew out a huff of air. "That's a medical fact, Madame Mayor. You can't argue with science."

"I believe the magic running through my veins can do exactl..."

"And that's not what I'm doing. I could have sworn I heard people having a conversation somewhere," interrupted the blonde, a frown flitting over her face as she strained to catch it again.

The mayor sighed, taking in her concentration. "Do you think you could pinpoint where it's coming from and lead us there?"

_Can I?_

Biting her lip, Emma wondered for a moment if the other woman had already gotten sick of leading her around like a puppy on a piece of string, gotten tired of explaining everything to her in words of two syllables. She couldn't blame her if that were true; if the roles had been reversed she was sure that she'd have been overwhelmed with frustration long before now. But then, she also knew that since this whole thing had kicked off, Regina had been nothing short of selfless and... and gallant for want of a better word, stopping her from following all her stupid instincts and isolating her family from the very first, then searching for her in her darkest moment. Staying with her; no, not with her... next to her until the black tide receded just a little.

Was that it then?

Was she doing the opposite of what it seemed then? Trusting her to lead them towards the possibility of answers, even with this damn disability out front and plain for everyone to see. Maybe she was offering up a compliment and like usual, Emma was just being too freaking stupid to see it.

"Miss Swan? Are you all right?"

The blonde turned to the older woman, her eyes crinkling as she smiled at the unease inherent in the question.

"Sorry, just considering the options. I think I can take us closer to it." She stopped. "If...you know...if you trust me to that is..."

Breathing heavily, Emma blinked as silence scattered over the two of them like dust and her insinuation hung in the air, the sordid array of unasked questions hiding under its folds.

Waiting for confirmation. Waiting for a denial.

Waiting.

Because she was always the one waiting.

That was her lot in life.

Then just like that, time started up again and she felt a wraithlike breath of hot air next to her ear that sent skittering shivers down her spine.

"...Lead on my Saviour."

And in that second it wasn't the epithet that got her heart beating like that and coated her palms in slick sweat. It was the simplicity and ease behind that one word.

_My._

_**My**__ Saviour._

Not just the town's but hers too. She could almost have sworn that she got her sight back just for that briefest minute, she was so happy. Spinning around Emma reached out a hand and felt for Regina's face with her fumbling fingers. As soon as she found it she leaned in and softly planted a kiss on the lips there, enjoying the shocked O formed by Regina's warm mouth. That's how it began- soft and appreciative.

She deepened the kiss as soon as she felt the muscles twitch and relax beneath her own though and Emma smiled as she took the lead, nipping teasingly at Regina and gently sliding her tongue into the brunette's mouth, sighing as she felt the other woman begin to battle her for dominance.

Each of them found themselves lost in the haze as they slammed backwards into the wall, Regina's arm snaking around the blonde's neck and grinning into the lips on hers as she drew them in, licking the corners lightly before devouring them again.

It was heady and fervent and only the need for air drew them both to pull away after a minute, each woman sucking in a breath before Emma allowed her forehead to softly come to rest against the mayors.

"What…I mean...what exactly was that in aid of?" said Regina breathlessly.

A shrug.

"Nothing. Everything. Just coz…" smiled Emma.

"Eloquent as ever, Miss Swan."

The blonde blinked, even though she knew Regina was teasing.

"If that's not an acceptable answer then I guess it was because you keep reaching your hand out into the darkness, with no concept of what you might find, in the vain hope that it'll keep me sane."

She sniffed, a light flush of pink flaring in her cheeks as she closed her eyes. "That's what it was in aid of... In a nutshell…In the giant shell of a nut."

Regina stared at her with astonishment. She was taken aback for a moment by the almost poetic nature of the comment; an unexpected thank you offered in the shadowy cream of the corridor.

But because the Sheriff couldn't see her reaction, couldn't see the flicker of something new and profound blooming in front of her, the longer they stood there, the more embarrassed Emma felt herself becoming. In fact after another thirty seconds had passed she was sure her face must look as if it was backlit by a thousand candles.

Swallowing hard, she scratched at the back of her left hand, "Regina, I…I didn't mean to..."

"Shhh."

Leaning in Regina cut off her brain and gave into her instincts; instincts that were telling her to wrap her arms around the stuttering blonde. Pulling her into a warm embrace, the Mayor went all in and let her head rest in the nook of Emma's shoulder where she could watch how her warm breath affected the pulse point there. It was quite a sight.

"You're welcome, Emma." She whispered. "We'll sort everything out and I'll keep you safe from now on, I promise. Ok?"

"Ok." She replied in a small voice.

And after that small and yet substantial declaration, they stayed there for a few minutes, just enjoying the silence and serenity inherent in the jumble of new discoveries about each other. The unanticipated considerations that neither would ever have guessed at before this strange version of reality had been set in motion.

Before everything had shifted sideways for both of them.

"There it is again!"

Regina jumped a little as Emma suddenly lifted her head, missing the intimacy almost immediately. Focusing again on the silence around them, the truth was that she still couldn't hear anything but something in her chest told her what to do. Brushing herself down, Regina put the flats of her hands on the Sheriff's shoulders before the inevitable questions resurfaced and turned her lightly to face the far end of the corridor.

"Come on then, Lassie. Take us to the well, Timmy won't save himself."

"That's hilarious." Came the deadpan reply.

Ignoring the urge to grin in a lame attempt to show a modicum of composure, Emma shook out her shoulders and started to move forward, fully aware that the older woman was little more than a step behind, deferring to her with every step. It was a situation she never would have foreseen even a few days ago but here it was happening in real time and that ridiculous fact wasn't lost on her. Cocking an ear to keep track of the faintest sounds of chatter, she began to lead them haltingly down towards the next archway, then after a brief hesitation turned left, her fingertips dragging along metre after metre of the smooth wall to keep her upright.

One thing was for sure- the noise was definitely getting louder.

Speeding up her pace, she felt the dusty air thin out as this new hallway opened up a little and felt relief hum around her as dim sounds of movement echoed around them and overhead. If she hadn't been concentrating so hard, she might have also noticed that the hand that had been hovering on the small of her back receded for a short moment, Regina falling back as she attempted to shake an irritating stone from lodging under the sole of her foot inside her boots. But she didn't notice.

For the first time in what felt like forever she was buoyed with self-assurance from their moment together and Emma completely missed the brunette behind resting her hand on the wall as she lifted her ankle up with exasperation.

It was a small, human action. One the Mayor had done a hundred times in her life.

But this time it was one that she should have reconsidered. Because the movement allowed a dark, shapeless figure who had been watching their progress to make their move. Allowed them to push open a nearby door soundlessly and steal out from the maintenance closet behind her right hand side. A figure who like all opportunists took advantage of her unbalanced position by clamping his hand over her mouth and pressing a soaked piece of cloth over her mouth and nose.

She fought of course, her arms clawing at the constricting hand at her face, aching to use the burning lactic acid in her muscles, to shout a warning to Emma but the chloroform was surprisingly potent for magic-less medicine and soon enough her body slumped into those waiting arms before she could even formulate the beginnings of a plan.

Up ahead, completely unaware of what was happening a few metres behind, Emma was still moving, drawn now to the blatantly obvious sounds of people talking and laughing, glasses clinking against each other and other general celebratory noises. It felt more than anything as if she were walking towards a bar on Thanksgiving, packed full of rowdy, jovial patrons. But that didn't make any sense. This was an unused bus station after all, wasn't it?

With more than a little apprehension, Emma's boot suddenly hit the bottom of a closed door and she jerked to a stop, feeling in front of her for any kind of handle.

Finding one, she blew out a soothing breath, then pulled.

And stepped into the unknown.

…

The noise was overwhelming at first- sound and energy mixed into one crushing sensation that tingled over her skin. Blasting around the circular walls of the room like a tornado.

Right up until someone must have noticed her presence because slowly Emma became aware of the conversations fading out, one by one tailing off as all eyes she presumed turned to her, the confused looking blonde standing in the doorway.

Thuk. Thuk. Thuk

She flinched.

And the finger tapping a microphone somewhere nearby sent thuds slamming into the air before a voice sliced the air.

"And here she is! Our guest of honour, everyone give a huge round of applause for Sheriff Swan, protector of our humble little town!"

_ What?!_

The newer sound of clapping hit her like a detonation, the waves of kinetic energy slapping her cheeks as she heard multiple voices cat-calling and cheering at her, the sounds rising into warm air.

Air heated by the sheer number of lungs breathing it in and recycling it through invisible pores.

Waiting for her.

_Seriously…What the freaking hell?_

Emma barely had time to finish that thought before someone unknown had grabbed her elbow, spinning her to her right as another smacked into her upper arm with friendly force. Her head flicked anxiously from side to side as she was suddenly manhandled and guided through a throng of blackness; a sea of subtle touches and voices crowing well done that she kind of recognised on some level but wasn't given the chance to identify before another took it's place.

Each one sent a new spark of panic zipping through her though, the weight of expectation that hummed through the room piercing her flickering muscles.

A panic she'd felt before. One that had only stopped before when Regina had...

_Regina!_

Emma suddenly realised that she hadn't heard anything from the brunette since she'd left the corridor and started to jerk away from the hand wrapped around her wrist.

"Regina?" Whispering at first, she called out the name burning in her mind. "Regina? Regina?!"

Recoiling as someone tried to bearhug her from the left hand side as she was pulled onwards, Emma desperately tried to contain her terror at the disappearance of her companion and barely managed to hang on as she forced herself to repeat a mantra that was burgeoning in her mind.

**Regina's fine.** **You can do this. They're your friends. **

** Regina's fine. You can do this. They're your friends.**

At least she hoped they were her friends.

"I...uh...what's going on guys?" she finally let out with a nervous giggle. "Has anyone seen Re...Mayor Mills?"

Hands batted at her, each touch that came out of the darkness jolting the words bouncing around her mind but no-one seemed to want to answer, their intent so obvious to anyone there that they saw her initial question as modesty nothing more.

Pulled onwards, Emma fought her hitching breathing as more and more congratulations flicked at her, the numbers of people there growing exponentially in her mind, hundreds of them, thousands maybe. All eyes lasered on her, watching her stumble as she was pulled along by a hand she had no defence against.

Suddenly the microphone squealed and the silky voice she'd heard erupted again.

"That's right folks, she's finally here, fashionable late as always… so bring her up to the stage as quick as you can..."

It was a female voice, one that Emma didn't really recognise but behind the cheeriness in it there was an undertone of something else, a maliciousness so opaque and natural that it was invisible to all those listening.

Almost all those.

Emma steeled herself to deal with that little nugget of information later as her foot suddenly hit a solid step and she swallowed her nervousness down so that it shared that invisibility. Lifting her legs, she found herself pulled upwards, one, two steps until she hit solid wood four steps later and was dragged to her right, pulled up short a moment later.

And the microphone amped on again.

"Quiet please everyone. I know you're all excited to be here to honour one of our newest and most appreciated members of Storybrooke but before we get down to business on a personal note I would just like to say, Miss Swan, thank you for taking the time out of your schedule to be here."

Emma's mouth dropped.

And then she felt it- a threatening electric drone tickling her chin and realised with horror that the microphone was being held up to her face in expectation of a reply. She could sense it waiting.

With an unpredictably dry mouth, Emma blinked hard as the darkness in front of her span a little.

"I...uh...that is...you're all welcome?"

_Eloquent, Swan._

A round of applause rang out again and this time at least it held less energy, standing as she was above the crowd, above its natural pulse.

"So you've obviously seen the very impressive banner made for us today by Year seven of Storybrooke Elementary. And we mean every word of it, Sheriff; this town needs someone as brave and unbreakable as you!"

Emma could only attempt an appreciative smile although she knew it must have been as see-through as any she'd ever pasted on.

"Settle down folks. Anyway, the main reason we're here Emma, is to thank you for keeping our streets safe from crime, the most current example where you fought off a burglar in Mayor Mill's mansion with absolutely no regard for your own well being proving that beyond doubt."

Emma baulked.

_How could they possibly know..._

"But this is about _more_ than that. Since you came here, this town has come alive in ways we could never have imagined. And we wanted to show you how much we appreciate your being here. And so, with that in mind...Mr Gold, if you wouldn't mind..."

There was a shuffling on the stage across from her and Emma sucked in an uncomfortable breath as an older male voice rang out.

"That's right. Unfortunately we didn't have as much time to prepare this as we might have liked but after a little research we couldn't wait to share with you a brief history of our esteemed Sheriff so that you could appreciate everything that she's given us. So here goes..."

He cleared his throat. "We all know that Emma Swan is a valiant defender of the law. What you may not know is that back in 2008, she single-handedly took down a three hundred pound criminal who had skipped his bail in the state of Missouri. Not only did she arrest this individual with all due care and attention, but she also permanently made sure that he would not be able to commit grievous bodily harm on anyone else in the future by shattering his kneecap with a single bullet. This heinous individual now resides in Atlanta Penitentiary and through a regimen of strong painkillers and physiotherapy hasn't been able to hurt or even threaten another person since his arrest."

Emma almost threw up in her throat as the words hit her, as she tried to pretend they weren't true. The accompanying whoops and applause that erupted from the crowd as he finished his speech was even worse and she had to grab the arm next to her just to stay on her feet. Not even caring whose it might be.

"That's not...I didn't mean to..." The useless words dripped out of her mouth weakly, a balled-up headache building behind her eyes.

"No no, please don't try and be modest, Emma. You're the kind of person this town has been waiting for, we all know that."

Suddenly Mr Gold was cut off and a young girl's reedy voice broke out.

"Emma Swan is a hero to all the kids at school. She's more than that actually ... She's someone who feels compassion for everyone she meets. Whether that's a person or…or a lost dog like Pongo. Even if someone's unhappy because they married the wrong person and don't know how to get out, she'll always find time to take care of them. She'll show them how to find happiness where they can and even if that means they leave their wife, she'll always stay with them and keep them company until they're strong enough to make a life for themselves at which point she moves on to the next person she can help. That's what she does. She saves people. I want to be just like her when I grow up."

A flash of pure white hot shame and regret slipped down her throat at the memory of Alexander Maycroft, the jet black haired business analyst she'd met in Washington and somehow ended up living with. She still remembered how he'd always kept his Rolex watch locked away in the safe whenever she was home alone, the insinuation that she might steal it, pawn it off behind his back despite her earning a fairly good salary an ever constant reminder of the cheapness of their connection. At her own weakness and need for physical comfort back in those days.

She'd never told anyone about that.

Not even Regina. And the glowing appreciation of the young girl's words made it even more tawdry and disgusting than it had seemed before. Emma threw a hand over her mouth as the bile began to rise again and she desperately tried to call out mentally to Regina to help her.

"Miss Swan," said a new supercilious voice, "you truly are a blessing."

"Oh God, please stop."

She could only assume it was Maleficent, the woman Regina had been so worried about back in the diner, although the voice was alien to her. It seemed logical given the last two speakers and still the small sliver of knowledge did little to bolster the whirring chaos in her mind.

"This town owes you a debt of gratitude and we intend to honour it today. We want everyone to know how incredibly moral and resilient you are. We want them to _know_ all the incredible stories you've lived through; how at the age of seventeen you were able to help your cellmate to pick the lock on your door with nothing more than a lawyers pen-lid before pretending to have contractions in order to distract the guards, knowing that you'd never get away yourself with a pregnant belly. And doing all this, while she snuck into the delivery van and made her escape. A girl who was never recaptured. This is beautiful, don't you see? We need your friends to see the depths of your commitment to them, the extent of the loyalty that you offer."

Her knees began to buckle and it took all her energy to stay upright. She wanted air: air that didn't burn as it entered her lungs and she wanted Regina. Just to slip her fingers through hers and whisper that they were in this together, that they would fix everything.

But none of the things that she prayed for came to her. All that flew back was the hollering and hooting of a rabid crowd, applauding some of the most disgusting things she'd ever done as though they were accolades. As though they were badges of honour.

"I think she's a little overwhelmed, people!" said a coy voice then. "So, before we delve any deeper into our favourite law-woman's history, what do you say we get a quick speech from the lady herself?"

The crowd went even wilder and Emma struggled to keep the bile down as she felt that insidious buzz suddenly gnawing at her chin again. Felt the room fall hushed as the microphone registered her breathing for all to hear…

And they all waited for her to say… something…

**TBC…**

**Dun dun dun! **


End file.
